


The Descent

by Bemused_Writer



Series: Noé's Sanctuary [1]
Category: Diablo (Video Game), ヴァ二タスの手記 - 望月淳 | The Case Study of Vanitas - Mochizuki Jun
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Tragedy, Crossover, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-14 01:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 60,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16483679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bemused_Writer/pseuds/Bemused_Writer
Summary: Noé has finally returned home to Tristram after journeying to study with his teacher in the east amidst whispers of the Dark Lord's return. He had hoped for a peaceful homecoming but things aren't the way they used to be and he's quickly dragged into a battle involving the forces of good and evil and it's all on his front doorstep.Things get more complicated still when he meets a human named Vanitas who managed to escape the labyrinth of his own accord. Will he help or hinder their mission? More importantly still, will Noé and Jeanne manage to thwart the Dark Lord's plans?





	1. Dungeon

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! 
> 
> I wanted to do something for the holiday and I've been playing a lot of classic video games and I thought, why not combine it with some VnC? Do take a look at the tags for this story although I'll admit one of them in particular is slightly misleading but I can't tell you why just yet. If you have questions about the story or the tags feel free to ask me on [Tumblr!](https://bemused-writer.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You should be able to follow this story even if you haven't played the original _Diablo_ but if you have you have some idea of where this is going. Having said that, I am changing several things of both VnC and _Diablo_ 's basic story for the sake of a few plot points.
> 
> With that out of the way, onwards!

Noé gazed longing down the road that seemed to stretch on forever from atop his horse. He’d been traveling for weeks throughout Sanctuary on his way back from the golden land of Lut Gholein and he was more than ready to be home. The warm desert sands had gradually transformed into the cooler deciduous environment he was more familiar with but unfortunately that brought in a rush of cold given the season he was returning. It was edging near the end of summer and fall was just starting to make itself known. Perhaps if Noé hadn’t spent the last five years in such a warm environment he wouldn’t be as shocked by the change in climate as he was now. Furthermore, the weather was taking a turn for the worse with gusts of wind beating at his back. He wrapped his cloak around himself tighter, hoping it would ease the chill settling in his bones.

He’d left a callow young man and, while it had been a mere five years, he felt the passage of time strongly. Lately, it seemed the world was a tired place that had given up hope. Some strange darkness was hardening the hearts of men. During his journey home he’d been confronted by more groups of bandits than he could count. Noé had heard rumors spoken quietly in the corners of taverns during his travels as well. They all spoke of the same thing: Diablo, Lord of Terror, had returned.

Noé had left more than one of those taverns with quiet unease. He didn’t believe such a thing was possible. He didn’t want to believe it.

His horse, Melon, gave a soft whinny of complaint. She could always tell when he was troubled.

“Come on, girl, we’re nearly there,” Noé said as she slowed. Melon was a good mare and had taken him safely across the land from one end of the continent and back but much like him she was ready for a break. Thankfully, Noé was telling the truth. Just peeking over the horizon was a small cruck house followed slowly by another and another. For the first time in ages his heart felt light again.

It was Tristram. Home.

Melon’s ears perked up as familiar smells wafted over them. Noé could pick out bread baking and the smoke of hearths as he approached. His lips turned upwards in a small grin. Such basic comforts had been missed on his travels. The taverns had worked well enough for short stays but it wasn’t the same.

Lut Gholein, the crown jewel of that desert country, had been more accommodating but that was largely due to his teacher’s influence. He had summoned him in an effort to continue his training in the ways of magic and history, particularly that of the Sin War. If it hadn't been for the behest of his teacher he'd likely never have left Tristram to begin with.

 _I need you here,_ mon chaton _. Don’t disappoint me. I expect you here posthaste. Think of it as a chance to reconnect with your heritage. There is little time left._

Time for what he’d never specified. He’d sent Noé back with as much alacrity as he’d summoned him. Still, Noé had gotten better at magic, so he could hardly say it had been a waste and he’d been longing for a little adventure at the time. Now all he wanted was his quiet village life back.

“Here we are,” Noé sighed in relief as he entered the village square. He looked around fondly. It was such a small area but he loved it all the same. Still, something was different. While it was later in the evening the sun had yet to fully dip below the horizon. Normally, the square was filled with children playing or neighbors chatting at this hour, their work for the day finally over. Now there was no one save an old man gazing wearily at the well.

Unnerved, Noé made his way over to the Tavern of the Rising Sun. Perhaps his old friend Ogden, the tavern owner, would have some idea of what was going on.

He slid off Melon’s side and got her settled in the stable round back. There was no sign of a stable boy, yet another strange turn. He carefully removed his packs so Melon wouldn’t be burdened and made sure she had a good supply of hay and water. She nuzzled his face briefly before turning her attention to her meal.

He gave her a firm pat of affection before he went inside, his two bags in hand. His teacher had insisted he take several tomes of learning with him despite all his protestations. Books were heavy and he had a long journey but once his teacher had set his mind to something there was simply no arguing with him. He’d also brought several potions just in case, gold, rations, a few portal scrolls, and a change of clothes, not to mention his trustworthy staff, the weapon of choice for all sorcerers.

Upon entering he was relieved to discover the tavern was much the same as when he’d left. The stonework shone brightly, lit by the warm fire crackling to his left. Noé moved to the front counter and leaned over, seeking his friend. Despite the comforting familiarity of the place it was still eerily quiet. Tristram had never been a tourist destination but the locals all enjoyed gathering at the tavern to trade gossip and indulge in a hearty meal. Despite that there was only one man sitting near the fireplace guzzling down his ale with more gusto than Noé thought was safe. He shook his head and refocused his attention.

“Hello? Ogden?” At first he heard nothing but then there was a rustling and Ogden came out from the kitchen. He looked thinner than Noé remembered and he held himself gingerly as though waiting for a confrontation.

“What can I help you with, Good Master?” His eyes darted left and right but refused to make contact.

Noé let out a huff of bemused laughter. “It’s me, Noé. Surely you haven’t forgotten me already!”

Ogden’s jaw went slack before he finally collected himself.

“Noé! I never thought I’d see you again. Thank goodness you’ve returned. Much has changed since you lived here, my friend. I don’t know where to start.” Behind him was Garda, his wife, who poked her head out from the kitchen. She had dark rings under her eyes but she smiled brightly when she took in his appearance.

“Noé? My, but you look exactly the same!”

“That’s kind of you to say, Garda. I feel different though; I’ve learned so much,” Noé said, carefully sidestepping the issue of his looks. He would likely look exactly the same for decades yet but they didn’t need to know of his heritage. No, with all the rumors flying around about the Lord of Terror it was best not to advertise himself as anything other than perfectly human. His teacher had made that much clear. Vampires weren’t part of his demonic horde, not always, but it wasn’t ground he wanted to cover. The matter remained that he was a demon and no human would be comfortable with that.

“Oh, I believe you. I’ve never understood this magic business but you’ve always been gifted with it. I’m sure Adria would agree!”

Adria? That was a new name. He wondered when anyone with the gift of magic had made a home in Tristram. When he’d left the only person with any ability in it was Pepin the healer.

“I’m really quite average; I’m sure she’s far more talented than I,” he said simply. It didn't matter for the time being. He would introduce himself to her later. More practitioners would only be a boon to the small village.

“You’re as modest as always,” Ogden said, his tone of voice warmer than it had been moments before. “Truly, I am glad you have returned. Our children missed you terribly.”

Noé supposed his children had already been sent to bed; it was the only explanation for why they weren’t running about making a ruckus.

“Tell me, where is everyone? It’s so quiet.”

“Of course it’s quiet,” a musical voice said from the corner of the tavern. Noé looked over, barely restraining himself from flinching; he hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room. The voice belonged to a fair woman with short hair and golden eyes. She was dressed in silver armor and had a broadsword at her back. A member of the king’s guard, perhaps? They would occasionally make themselves known in the villages but it was uncommon and they usually came as a group.

“We’re under siege,” she continued. Ogden shifted uncomfortably and Garda wrung the dishrag in her hands nervously.

“I don’t follow,” Noé trailed off. Her gaze was intense, unlike any he’d met before, and it was locked on him.

“The king is dead. He went mad and tried to kill his own son, Prince Luca, who is now missing. Archbishop Lazarus gathered many people, including a few from this very village, to storm the labyrinth but to no avail. He brought the prince with him.”

Her knuckles were white from how tightly she held the mug before her. However composed she sounded she was clearly upset by the events that had transpired. Ogden muttered something to Garda who ducked back into the kitchen.

“Perhaps the two of you have some talking to do,” Ogden said. “We’ll get you both a meal. You’ve come a long way, Good Master; you’ve earned that much.”

Noé wanted to protest the term, he was Ogden’s friend, not a patron, but he’d learned that Ogden cared a great deal about propriety and, well, maybe they didn’t know each other as well as they once had. Noé’s heart hurt to think that but he had no idea things had gotten so bad in his absence. He'd had no news of Tristram for the duration of his stay with his teacher and he hadn't even thought to ask. Guilt gnawed at him uncomfortably.

He stood awkwardly in the room, unsure of what he ought to do with himself. Across the room, the drunkard let out a loud, indecipherable yell.

“Just a moment, Farnham! You’re not my only customer,” Ogden called from the back. Noé blinked. That was Farnham? What on earth had happened to him? He had never been a drinker before.

“If you are willing, have a seat with me.” The woman’s voice broke through his reverie. She gestured toward the chair across from her.

“My name is Jeanne; I was a member of the king’s guard.” Noé didn’t miss the past tense she’d used but it confirmed his suspicions nonetheless; she really was from the capital and whatever had happened there hadn’t been good. “I’d be interested in hearing what you’ve learned during your travels.”

Noé gave a slight nod and took the proffered seat gracefully. Jeanne held herself rigidly but he sensed no malicious intent.

“It seems I’m woefully behind on the goings on around here,” Noé admitted. “I would be grateful to you if you would fill me in.”

“Of course. But first I would like to hear more about you. It sounds like you’re originally from Tristram but you’ve been away for some time. Why?”

“My teacher summoned me from Lut Gholein. He wanted to continue my training. I didn’t ask any questions at the time but now…”

“Now you wonder if he suspected what’s come to pass.”

Noé nodded reluctantly. His teacher had the gift of foresight, though he rarely bothered to fill Noé in on any of his findings.

_No future is set in stone. We can only prepare for it as best we can. Even the snippets I see are no guarantee, so why worry yourself about it?_

Maybe that was the case but if his teacher was going to have him traveling across the world on the mere possibility of Diablo’s reappearance then he’d really like to know about it in advance.

“At any rate, I studied magic and had everything about the Sin War drilled into my head. He’s relentless once he gets started,” Noé admitted bashfully. “We also traveled a bit from Lut Gholein through parts of Kurast but that was terribly brief. I barely saw anything there before Teacher decided we ought to leave.”

Jeanne nodded thoughtfully. “That’s where the majority of the Sin War took place. There are great sorcerers from that region.”

The Sin War was the great battle between the High Heavens and the Burning Hells where both parties had tried to usurp Sanctuary, the domain of humans, for their own purposes. There was some debate on whether either side had won. Many claimed that, seeing as there was still evil in the world, the Prime Evils had clearly won the day. Others insisted the opposite for surely they would all be living in an endless hellscape otherwise. Noé hadn't paid much mind to the debate but then again he had the insight of a demon: if Diablo and his brothers had succeeded Sanctuary would be much worse off. His teacher had always said as much.

“Yes, he thought it would be good for me to see the place so prominently mentioned throughout history. As for why he dragged me to Lut Gholein in the first place he said it was to reconnect with my heritage but I was never raised there. We would only visit it every other year. Kurast was an unheard of departure from the norm. It’s a very … wet environment.”

Noé shuddered inwardly; he’d fallen into its marshy depths one too many times through carelessness. His teacher had found it immensely amusing.

“I’m not sure I reconnected to much of anything. To be honest, I’m not sure what he was hoping I’d discover and then, after all that, he sent me back with such haste that I wonder if going all the way out there was wise to begin with. I could have helped out more here.” The whole thing was starting to make Noé feel a touch gloomy.

“Perhaps,” Jeanne acknowledged, “but you are stronger now, aren’t you? I think it was worth it if so. We’ll need men and women of mettle in the coming days.” She smiled softly. “Don’t worry, Noé, not all hope is lost. What else did you learn on your travels?”

Noé inwardly debated what to tell her. He was afraid to say the words at all.

As he fumbled around for words, Ogden appeared with twin bowls of soup. Noé took his gratefully and Jeanne followed suit. It was a simple meal but Noé thought it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. It tasted like home.

“Thank you, Ogden. It’s fantastic as always.” Noé offered him a smile.

Jeanne nodded in agreement. “It’s excellent.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Good Master, milady. If you need anything else just let us know,” he said before shuffling away.

Jeanne turned her attention back on him after taking a few more bites. Noé paused in his supping awkwardly and managed, quietly, “They say the Lord of Terror has returned.”

He thought the temperature dropped a few degrees as he said it and Jeanne’s eyes flashed with pain.

“I fear they’re correct,” she murmured. “There can be no other explanation for the strange behavior of both King Leoric and the Archbishop Lazarus. Oh, Prince Luca…” She said the last part so quietly that Noé almost didn’t hear. He steadfastly focused on his meal in an effort to give her privacy.

She took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve come to stop him, the evil of which you speak. I cannot let this destroy our kingdom. It would be a terrible blow both strategically and morally. I hesitate to ask but you’ve said that you’re a sorcerer and you must have some skill to have traveled as far as you have. You would be of great aid in this battle.”

“I, well, yes, I suppose I might be. But I am still a mere novice, I don’t think—”

“Take a bit of time to consider it,” Jeanne said softly. “I can give you a day and no longer. I know that for the magnitude of the situation it isn’t nearly enough but the Cathedral is the source of this corruption. Something must be done.”

“The Cathedral,” Noé said weakly. He’d gone to pray there many times in his youth. The thought of it falling to the forces of evil was almost too much to comprehend.

“Are you … quite sure it’s Diablo? That it can’t be anything else? It was just rumor during my travels. Surely…”

“You weren’t there when the king went mad. There can be no other explanation.”

Despite the gravity of the situation her words were gentle. She reached out and grasped his hand comfortingly.

“I know it’s hard to believe but the sooner we accept what has happened the sooner we can set it right. I know this isn’t the homecoming you were hoping for but your teacher knew as well as I that the world is in peril.”

Noé could sense the truth of her words but still he found himself hesitating. He’d wanted nothing more than some peace and quiet. It was becoming clear he would have neither.

“Let me sleep on it. I should have an answer for you then.” It was with a sinking feeling that he knew what his answer would be but no, he would settle on it in the morning.

“Of course,” she said quietly.

“For now, I must rest. I hope my home is still in order.” It occurred to him that no one would have been looking after it. The amount of dust that must have gathered…

She let out a chuckle. “I’ll be staying here when you’re ready to talk. I’m glad we’ve met, Noé.”

“As am I, Lady Jeanne. Good night.”

He carefully gathered his packs back up from where he’d set them by his chair and was about to set out when Ogden called for him.

“I nearly forgot but I meant to return him to you.” Noé blinked in confusion before realization dawned on him as Ogden presented something round and furry.

“Murr!”

“I took good care of him in your stead. He’s a bit … rascally.”

“Thank you, Ogden,” Noé said. He took Murr in his arms who promptly tried to wriggle away. It was possibly the first good thing to happen since he’d returned. He’d been afraid to ask after Murr. He’d been just a kitten when he’d left but he’d still worried something might have happened to him while he was gone.

Noé set out into the cool night air with Murr reluctantly in tow. He took a deep breath. At least the wind and rain had died down. It was almost comfortable albeit still a touch colder than he would have preferred but the air was crisp and refreshing, which helped his weary mind. He was forced to admit that outside of the rain, night in Tristram was kinder than in the desert where it would become terribly cold in contrast to the heat of day. He thought back to the splendor of the city he'd spent so much time in. It was different from Tristram in nearly every way. It was decadent, lively, and the food was always flavored with a great deal of spice. In comparison Tristram felt muted. It didn’t help that Tristram was, apparently, the source of evil growing in the world.

His spirits properly dampened he got Melon from the stable and began the swift walk to his long-abandoned cottage. Once he was finally home he took a cold bath and scrubbed viciously at the dirt and grime in his hair and then promptly fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow of his disused bed.

* * *

 

His dreams were troubled that night, swirling images of blood and stone, but when he woke all he could recall was darkness and a voice desperately calling for help. There had been a flash of blue.

 _Could it have been someone's eyes?_ he wondered. Noé cradled his head in his hands to stall the oncoming headache he could sense creeping up on him. Now even the sanctity of his dreams offered no comfort. Murr let out a loud _meow_ before leaping onto his lap. His fluffy tail flicked across his face. It tickled slightly.

“I know. I need to find Lady Jeanne. But maybe we should see how everyone else is holding up in the meantime now that it's morning. Maybe there’s something we’ve missed.” He'd always felt Murr could understand him even if Murr generally seemed to disapprove of every single word he uttered.

Upon reaching the town square it quickly became apparent that the only thing Noé had missed was that things were ten times worse than Jeanne had led him to believe.

“Oh, Noé, the water supply is undrinkable in this state,” Pepin, the village healer, wailed. He was a thin, wisp of a man who was getting on in years yet he was one of the most stouthearted individuals Noé had ever met. He supposed the art of healing demanded as much.

“Take a look at this,” he said as he dragged Noé over to the center of the village square. “This brackish water is confounding. If we don’t do something soon we won’t have to worry about the legions of Hell.”

“I understand, Master Pepin,” Noé said reassuringly. He had to admit the stuff barely looked like water at all. It was yellow and had a consistency closer to sludge than anything else. Privately, he wondered if it were really possible to restore it to its former glory. He wouldn’t dare say such a thing to Pepin, however. The poor man looked beside himself with worry.

“I’m afraid he’s entirely correct,” another voice said to his side. Noé looked up and instantly recognized who it was. Cain, the village storyteller. He was an elderly man in long, graying robes who clutched a walking stick in hand. Or was it a staff? Noé had never satisfied his curiosity in that regard way or another. The man was terribly mysterious despite how frequently he conversed with every villager.

“Master Cain, it’s good to see you,” Noé said.

“And it’s good to see you, Noé, though you come back to us in troubled times. But I sense this could be a good omen. You’ve met the lady Jeanne, I take it?”

“I have indeed,” Noé said.

Pepin looked between them both frantically before exclaiming, “And this Lady Jeanne, she will help us? Something must be done. I can’t heal anyone with this water much less subsist on it!”

“Relax, Pepin, all will be well. Ogden has enough clean water stored away for us to get through this. Noé has a meeting he needs to get to though, don’t you, lad?”

Noé flushed and nodded. He never knew how Cain kept up on conversations he'd never been a part of. To the best of his knowledge no one had actually told him that Noé had met Jeanne and yet here he was ushering him along. Noé excused himself and returned to the inn. Upon reaching it he immediately noticed something amiss.

He studied the outside trying to place what was off. The building was intact but ... surely the inn had had a sign before? Noé felt certain he'd seen one when he entered the other day.

Puzzled, he proceeded to step through the doorway where he found Jeanne right where she’d been before. He briefly wondered if she’d bothered to get any sleep whatsoever. She waved at him as he approached and before she could bid him greeting he said, “I’m in.”

She blinked in confusion momentarily before she let out a wide grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I mean, together we’ll have a much better chance of succeeding. In that case, let us set out immediately.”

“Yes.” Noé had brought along several potions of healing and mana as well as his sturdier set of robes in preparation. They were brightly colored with shades of red and white. There were runes embroidered on the sleeves and collar in golden, enchanted thread. Noé had done the enchantments himself. It wasn't an outfit designed to blend in but it was the best he had for the job.

“I just need to ask Ogden if he has a supply of clean water for the town before we go,” he said.

She nodded. "Of course. You'll find him over there."

Ogden was at the counter, scrubbing in his typically nervous fashion and with a determination had Noé pitying the wood it was made of. His focus was so intense Noé had to wave a hand in front of him to get his attention. He jerked up suddenly and looked around, his eyes full of worry. Noé gave a sheepish apology and Ogden's eyes finally landed on him.

“Good morning, Master. Ah, whatever is wrong?”

Noé quickly relayed what he’d learned of the water and Ogden nodded grimly.

“Quite right. The sooner it’s dealt with the better. While I have clean water stored away I fear it won’t last forever. Even so,” he hesitated, “do be careful down there? We’ve only just gotten you back. Garda and I have missed you so.”

Noé wondered what he’d done to earn such a good friend. It certainly hadn't been out of any profound loyalty on his part; he'd only occasionally written. He'd been far too busy learning to manage any more.

“I’ve missed you, too. I will be as careful as is possible. I think Lady Jeanne is a formidable warrior, so I won’t be storming the cathedral all on my own at least.”

Ogden chuckled halfheartedly.

“Still, I think whatever is down there is getting bolder. That is, my sign… No, never mind. It’s not important.”

“Ogden, you can tell me of whatever is bothering you,” Noé said gently. “I noticed your sign was missing earlier. What happened?”

Ogden’s face flushed in embarrassment. “I heard scurrying in the night and odd screeching sounds. I think some of those creatures ran off with it. I don’t know why they would take that but leave me and my family alone but I can’t claim to understand how they think. Why do you think they did it?”

“I don’t know,” Noé said slowly. Was it some kind of trophy? Was it to stoke fear? Either way, it confirmed what everyone was saying: there was something down there. Noé’s blood ran cold.

“I’ll keep an eye out for it in any case,” Noé said.

“Oh, I don’t want you to trouble yourself over the silly thing.”

“Yer goin’ down there, aren’t ya?” A drunken voice cried from the corner. Farnham. Noé had purposefully been avoiding him when he entered. It was cowardly but he didn’t want to see how far the man had fallen. He’d once been so stalwart and now he evidently spent far too much time in Ogden’s tavern drinking himself into oblivion.

There was mania in Ogden’s eyes as he approached.

“I am,” Noé managed, glancing away from his stumbling gait.

“Look out for the Butcher,” he raved, his eyes wide, alight with blind fear. He gripped Noé tightly by the shoulders, trembling as he did so. His breath stank of alcohol.

“He took all my friends… There was blood everywhere!”

Jeanne looked up in concern. Noé shook his head in response.

“Come now, Farnham, that’s not a good subject when people are eating,” Ogden shushed gently. He steered the trembling man carefully toward one of the chairs near the fireside.

“It’s going to be all right,” Noé heard him murmur softly. “Noé has a great deal of skill in the mystic arts.”

“Right, tha’s right,” Farnham slurred. “I’m sorry, Ogden…”

“It’s no matter,” Ogden said quietly. “I’ll bring you some water. You’ve had too much to drink.”

Farnham just whined pitiably.

“What on earth is he talking about?” Noé managed once Ogden was behind the counter once more and out of Farnham's earshot. Jeanne had walked over to stand beside him, clearly worried about his condition as well.

“Farnham was one of the men who joined Archbishop Lazarus’s excursion into the labyrinth. I don’t know all that happened but when he returned it was without any of the other members of the party.”

“I know,” Jeanne murmured. “I’d hoped he would get better. It was a mistake for Lazarus to bring so many into that place. Has he said anything else of this butcher? We need to be prepared for as much as possible.”

“No, it’s hard to make out most of what he says nowadays,” Ogden said sadly. “But be careful. We lost many people in that excursion.”

“I know,” Jeanne said, her eyes hard as steel. “I intend to avenge them. Let’s go, Noé. I think we’ve learned as much as we’re going to.”

“Right. Oh, Ogden, I hate to ask, but could you keep an eye on my house? And could you take Murr back? It doesn’t look like I’ll have time to spend with him after all.” It hurt to admit after just getting him back but he couldn’t risk bringing Murr into danger.

“Of course, Master Noé. Take care, you two.”

* * *

 

They walked over to the cathedral in silence. When they stood before the entrance they both took a moment to gather their courage. Noé could hardly believe it was the source of one of the Prime Evils. It looked the same as always. It reached toward the heavens with its tall spires and a welcoming glow emanated from the numerous candles within. It was beautiful.

“Are you ready?” Jeanne whispered. Her hand was poised at the ready to draw her sword at a moment’s notice.

“I suppose so,” Noé said. He gripped his staff harder. Its weight was familiar and it eased his tension marginally. Part of him was still clinging to the mad hope that when they entered they’d realize it had all been a bizarre misunderstanding and that things were actually all right.

Jeanne walked into the entrance and with only the slightest hesitation Noé followed after her. The second they entered his hopes were dashed. It was silent as a grave save for the occasional skittering sound. The altar was smashed to pieces and the pews were scratched and burned.

“The sanctity of this place has been fouled,” Jeanne said in disgust. Noé said nothing. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would even begin to cover the shock he was experiencing. He’d gone here as a child with his teacher in the distant past. It had been a place of sanctuary even though his teacher had always made a point to mention how the cathedral hadn’t always been of the Zakarum faith, the Church of Light. Noé had always wondered whether his teacher believed in the faith or not--he largely had criticisms of its teachings and its people--but he’d never been bold enough to ask. Regardless, they’d gone to the Cathedral and Noé had enjoyed their time there.

“Lady Jeanne, how will we purify the water?” Noé said instead of bringing up his own history with the building. The water supply was bothering him. They didn’t even know what the source of the pollution was or where the wellspring would be. He knew it was somewhere beneath the town but how would the Cathedral lead them to it?

“I spoke to Adria the Witch before we met up today,” Jeanne said as she stepped carefully through the wreckage. Noé followed the path she chose and they quickly reached the back of the room.

“What did she say?”

“She said it was the work of demons but they do not yet know the impact of what they’ve done. I think this will give us an advantage; if they don’t realize how catastrophic their actions are they don’t know the village is weakened. We must be swift.”

“Then, you think if we take care of the demons the water will be restored?”

“I hope so,” she said quietly. She was moving her hands over the plains of the wall, clearly looking for something. She let out a sound of triumph once she found it. She pressed one of the bricks in and the wall moved away revealing a steep staircase.

“This is why they’ve been calling it a labyrinth,” she said by way of explanation when she saw the shocked look on Noé’s face. “There are many floors hidden beneath the Cathedral. They go on for miles. I wish we had a map,” she said idly before stepping in. “It’s quite dark. Do you know a light spell?”

“Oh, of course,” Noé fumbled with his staff and mumbled a few words. The tip lit up as a globe of light surrounded it. He held it aloft as they made their way down the stairs. The skittering sound grew louder the further down they went. Jeanne held her sword at the ready.

Noé cursed his senses for being so much stronger than a human's was. He could smell the scent of blood wafting up the steps mixed in with decay and a musty, disused scent and he already wanted to leave.

“Ready yourself,” Jeanne murmured before she leapt past the last few steps and landed directly atop some kind of dog-like creature. She slew it immediately and blood spurted across her blade.

Noé let out a gasp. He hadn’t sensed anything!

She pivoted and flung herself into another heavy swing, this time shattering a moving skeleton under the strength of her blade and yet she still wasn’t done. She flipped over another one of the dog-like creatures and took out some kind of … bat creature? But it was huge! Noé gaped. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting but it wasn’t this _swarm._ They could easily take over Tristram without really trying.

“Hurry, Noé! We’ve more to get through yet!”

“R-right,” Noé stuttered, finally coming to. He ran into the fray against his better sense and began launching fireball after fireball, mindful of where Jeanne was so he wouldn’t risk hurting her.

 _Can she even be hurt?_ he wondered wildly. Was this the strength of the entire king’s guard?

All sense of time quickly left him. He was breathing heavily and the scent of charred flesh filled the air. Finally, the floor was clear.

“We’re making good time,” Jeanne finally said through strained breaths. “You really are a talented sorcerer.”

Noé snorted gracelessly. “I used one spell. I was taught so many and I could only think of one. I’m not sure that’s a talent.”

Jeanne’s lips quirked upwards. “Perhaps, but you have a great deal of stamina. I only saw you use one mana potion.”

Noé shrugged. “My teacher drilled me until I could manage on barely anything at all. Like I said, he’s relentless.”

“You’ll have to tell me more about him sometime. He sounds like an unusual man.”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that.” Noé wouldn’t describe his teacher as a “man.” Much like Noé himself he had been cursed with vampirism. He wouldn't have seen it that way but Noé wondered. Neither of them was human but there he couldn't dwell on that now. He forced himself to focus back on the task at hand.

“What now?” He was more than ready to follow Jeanne’s lead. She may have praised him but it was clear who had fought in battle before and who hadn’t. It had all just been theory to Noé for the longest time but suddenly it was terribly real. He looked down at his robes, once so pristine now covered in blood and singed at the edges. He wondered if just being in a tainted place could corrupt.

Jeanne’s armor wasn’t faring much better. She didn’t have the option of keeping a distance and her once shining, silver armor shone crimson instead. Before them was a sea of carnage and they intended to go further down. Further and further… Noé squeezed his eyes shut. He’d be seeing a great deal more of this, there was no doubt about it.

“Now? We keep going. Until we find some clue as to the water supply or this butcher we have nothing to go on. All we can do is purify this place by removing it of evil.”

“All right,” Noé sighed. He felt weary and they’d only just begun.

“Let’s go this way,” Jeanne said decisively. “I think I saw another staircase awhile back.”

Unfortunately, Jeanne had, in fact, seen another staircase and they continued their descent. The next floor looked much like the last and Noé wished fiercely for some windows, some connection to the outside world. He could feel the walls closing in on him and the corridors seemed to stretch on forever.

After they cleared a section of the floor Jeanne walked over and gripped his shoulder tightly. He was swaying on his feet, his vision dancing with the effort of what they were doing.

“Noé, are you with me?” Her voice was gentle once more. “You have to let me know how you’re faring. We have to keep up communication. This place can get to you all too easily.”

“I’m just … it feels like everything’s closing in on us,” Noé admitted.

“Take a deep breath,” she advised. “Just focus on me.”

Noé complied and took to studying Jeanne’s face by way of distraction. She was lovely; he’d noticed that back at the inn. She had soft features that belied the true strength she possessed. She took a deep breath and he followed suit. He wondered how she was coping so easily.

“You never did get around to telling me about yourself,” Noé finally said after they’d taken a few more deep breaths.

“You’re right. What do you want to know?”

“Anything would help right now. How are you so calm?”

She smiled grimly. “I’m not. I just have a very good reason for being here.”

She hesitated a bit before continuing. “I mentioned to you that I was a member of the king’s guard. More specifically I was tasked with protecting his son, Prince Luca. But the king began to act strangely. Not enough for me to disobey, nothing like that, but Captain Lachdanan was suspicious. He thought the king was being influenced by something foul. It turns out he was right…”

“I’m sorry, Jeanne.”

She shook her head and continued. “Captain Lachdanan and I were the only ones of the king’s guard who really suspected something was wrong and we paid for it in our own way. Most of the guards were corrupted by Diablo; I’m sure that must be what it was, for they all turned against what is good in this world. Archbishop Lazarus insisted it was Lachdanan’s fault and that he had betrayed King Leoric, but I knew this couldn’t be so. I’ve known him for years; he would never betray the king. Regardless, the Royal Guard is no more. They say Lachdanan killed the king. Soon after, Archbishop Lazarus and Prince Luca disappeared. I can only think he must have taken him here during the raid poor Farnham is tormented by. I failed my duty. That’s all there is to know about me.”

Her eyes were closed, her features twisted with pain. Noé slowly reached over and took her hand in his own.

“That’s not so, Jeanne.” He gripped her hand tightly. “I’ve only known you a day and I can already tell you’re incredible. You’re here to save Prince Luca, aren’t you? I’d say he’s a fortunate boy to have someone like you to care for him.”

She offered a wan smile. “I only hope it isn’t too late. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him.”

“I guess we have to continue then, don’t we? We’ll purge this dungeon of evil and restore goodness to the land of Sanctuary. I’m not ready to give up just yet!”

Jeanne let out a laugh, the first truly joyful thing he’d heard from her. His heart warmed. “All this from someone who was so frightened mere moments before! I’m glad you’re here, Noé. You’re truly pure of heart.”

As they continued Noé began to find a strange kind of flow. He was able to focus well enough to conjure different kinds of spells, which proved to be useful as some areas were too narrow to risk a blast of fire of any kind. Stone Curse, a useful skill that would stop anyone in their tracks, and a basic healing spell became his most heavily relied upon. In a few desperate moments he actually used his staff itself as a weapon combined with the martial arts his teacher had drilled into him until Jeanne could come to his aid. He’d need to spend more time studying when they returned.

He’d never really thought he’d need all these offensive style spells. He’d always taken to physical training better than spellcasting. His teacher had held mixed feelings on the matter. He always said he wanted Noé as skilled in as many styles as possible. Noé had spent many hours in his teacher's manor casting spell after spell with his teacher adjusting his stance and offering his critique.

Amid their fighting they eventually bumped into a demon that called itself, charmingly, Snotspill. It demanded they take care of some larger demons and bring back something they’d stolen from him. Jeanne lifted her sword menacingly before Noé dragged her away.

“What are you doing?” she hissed angrily.

“We may as well find out what he’s talking about,” Noé insisted. “None of these other demons have said anything to us beyond growls of anger. I didn’t even realize they could speak…”

“So?” Jeanne demanded.

“Look, we’re going to have to face those larger demons anyway. Maybe we could make an ally down here, turn the tide.”

“I seriously doubt—”

“Can’t we at least try?” Noé implored. “I just … don’t want to think they’re destined to be evil.”

“They’re from Hell,” Jeanne said in disbelief. “That’s what they are.”

“Please, Jeanne.”

She huffed in annoyance but there was a look of understanding on her face. They went back to inform Snotspill they would take a look and see what had happened exactly.

It turned out they didn't have to go far to find the demons Snotspill had mentioned. They were huge and had an enormous horn on their head. Noé quickly saw why Snotspill wanted someone else to do the work.

Despite their size they were quick, charging at them with a force that took Noé so aback Jeanne had to drag him away from the first. Thankfully, the demons' stamina wasn't very good and they were able to dodge and force their way to victory. When they got a look at what it was Snotspill had wanted to begin with Noé’s heart sank. It was Ogden’s sign.

“What do you want to do?” Jeanne said neutrally.

“We can’t give Ogden’s sign to him. Why do they even want it?”

“Probably as a trophy or something similar. Noé, we don’t have time to figure it out.”

“No, I suppose we don’t. Let’s get this back to Ogden and see if, perhaps, it will be willing to make a compromise.”

Noé focused briefly and cast a portal home. It was an oval of crackling blue energy. Jeanne stepped toward it hesitantly.

"Don't worry. This will take us right back to Tristram. The portal is connected to Tristram's energy and as such can't lead us anywhere else."

"Interesting. Let's go then.

All of Noé's doubts about the sign disappeared once he took in Ogden’s look of delight.

“I really didn’t think I’d see this again! You two are a marvel. I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble getting this back.”

“None yet,” Jeanne sighed. Ogden looked at Noé curiously. He just shrugged. Ogden didn’t need to know the full extent of the horrors lying under their home.

Predictably, Snotspill wasn’t thrilled at the news his sign had been returned to the person he’d rightfully stolen it from. A battle ensued where there were far more of those small demons than Noé had thought possible crawling out from behind the shadows.

“I’m sorry,” Noé said after they’d finished up. Jeanne shook her head.

“No, you were right. We should try to see the best in any situation. If one demon is capable of independent thought of some kind perhaps there are others that could be reasoned with. I don’t think we’ll have much opportunity for that but … it’s a worthy thought.”

It was more understanding than Noé deserved but he accepted it with a nod and they continued onwards.

Noé wasn’t sure how much time passed when Jeanne suddenly waved him over.

“Take a look at this.” She gestured toward a crack in the wall. Noé eyed it apprehensively.

“Do you hear that?”

Noé tried to tune out the sound of his own heartbeat thudding frantically in his chest in favor of picking out whatever sound Jeanne had noticed. It took several moments but he finally figured it out.

“Flowing water,” he said in realization.

“I think there’s a good chance this is the source of the well's pollution. It smells disgusting,” Jeanne said with resignation. “Shall we?”

Noé nodded reluctantly. The poisoned water supply was surely the village’s most immediate concern. They had to take care of that before anything else could be considered in any detail.

The small passage was a nightmare to get through and what followed wasn’t a great improvement on it. They were clearly under the foundation of the cathedral judging by the narrow dirt walls surrounding them.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to go a great distance. As soon as they felled the final dancing demon (Jeanne called them Fallen Ones) the water began to clear. Noé stared in disbelief.

“How can it be purified so quickly?”

Jeanne shrugged. “It wasn’t a natural pollution. I suppose it was … more of a curse.”

She looked briefly uncomfortable at the word but quickly collected herself. He supposed it was understandable; a curse of Hell's was formidable indeed.

Still, this was their first major victory. Noé allowed himself to relish it briefly before Jeanne insisted they needed to continue.

“How long have we been down here,” Noé muttered. “Shouldn’t we return at some point?”

“Once we run out of supplies we will,” Jeanne said. Noé stared.

“We only brought some potions and a few rations.”

“Yes. That’s more than enough to continue for another couple hours.”

“Jeanne…”

She looked at him, obviously confused at his concern. Noé wanted to point out that the human body couldn’t survive on that alone. Noé would be fine but Jeanne didn’t know he was abnormal. She would need more sustenance than that. Surely they’d been down here for the better part of a day.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I mean, are you tired? I should have asked…”She looked awkward now and a little embarrassed.

“Um, no, I can keep going. I’ll keep you updated. Just don’t strain yourself, please. We’re no good to anyone dead.”

“Of course. Right. I mean, maybe we should go back. We have been down here for a while and, I just…” Her face was bright red. Noé ducked his head in amusement.

“No, no, let’s keep going,” he managed.

They did so for a bit until a scream suddenly split the air. Jeanne’s eyes were wide with alarm as she dashed off, Noé close behind.

“Help!” A voice shrieked. “Let go, you fiend! I won’t go back! _I won’t!_ ”

Noé felt a chill creep up his spine. That sounded eerily familiar. The enclosed walls, the corridor they were running down … hadn’t it all been in his dream?

“Ah, fresh meat,” a monstrous voice replied before letting out a guttural laugh. “I’m sure _she_ desires your return. A pity; you would be marvelous to tear apart.”

Jeanne began to run even faster, clearly alarmed. Noé kept his staff aloft, lighting the way before them.

A high-pitched cry of pain filled the air before falling silent. Jeanne launched herself at something Noé couldn’t quite make out. When he could he wished he hadn’t seen a thing. The creature towered over Jeanne who was engaged in relentless battle with the thing. It swung a giant cleaver at her, its apron—an apron of all things!—was drenched in blood and it walked disturbingly fast for something with such bulk. It had a pig-like face but the real horror was what surrounded it. The room was filled with the dead and they had not been buried ceremoniously. No, they had been brutalized. Their bodies were torn apart, viscera covered the floor, and several … parts were stuck on various pikes littering the room. Noé could feel the eyes of the departed on him, judging his failure. Noé bit back a sob.

Surely, this was the monster known as the Butcher. A soft groan, too soft for human ears to make out, barely made itself known to Noé amid the clanging of Jeanne’s sword and the Butcher’s cleaver.

Noé could just barely make out a slim man clutching at his side, slouched over in the corner. Blood was seeping from his lips but he was still alive.

 _He’s still alive,_ Noé thought numbly. They could still walk away from this carnage with at least one person alive. It was too late for all the others.

Noé turned his attention back to the Butcher. Jeanne was holding her own but just barely.

Noé flung Stone Curse at him. His aim was true and the beast froze. Jeanne took the opportunity to strike as mercilessly as she ever had. She let out a cry of rage. Clearly the surroundings had upset her as much as Noé. He readied his fireball and soon he was blasting the Butcher with fire over and over.

Despite their combined efforts it took far too long for the Butcher to finally die. He let out a final growl before finally falling face first in the blood of his victims. He twitched one a few times before stilling, his hateful eyes glazing over.

Jeanne breathed heavily, her eyes alight with fury.

“You will never again harm another the way you have harmed these people,” she cried.

“Jeanne, this way!” Noé called from where he was crouched by the unknown man. He'd dashed over the moment the Butcher had fallen.

Jeanne looked up darkly. When she saw the man slouched over her eyes widened in shock and she dashed over.

“Come on, drink this quickly now,” Noé said, his voice trembling slightly. He tilted the man’s face upwards and angled the healing potion so he could drink it more easily. His breathing was shallow and his eyes were scrunched with pain. He choked on the drink.

“Okay, healing spell, healing spell,” Noé’s mind was going blank. It occurred to him he was hyperventilating, which would hardly help the situation. He reached for the spell that he knew so well, had been using repeatedly, but he couldn’t _focus._

“B-book,” the man forced out, gripping at Noé's hand, his touch cold. He was looking directly at Noé now and he wondered faintly at the shocking blue of his eyes. They were glowing faintly in the gloom and surely that wasn't normal for a human.

“What?” Jeanne looked around. “A book?”

He struggled to sit up but Noé gently pushed him back down. It was painfully easy.

“ _The Book of Vanitas_!” he cried. “It’s here, I-I need it…”

“Okay, okay, we’ll get that. Jeanne!” Noé was definitely panicking now. He couldn’t lose this man. He couldn’t face another death in this room. Jeanne got up hastily and looked around, moving body parts in her haste to find the mysterious book. Noé wondered if, maybe, she was panicking as well.

“H-he tried to take it from me,” the man continued before letting out a loud groan of pain. The healing potion had helped but it wasn’t nearly enough and with Noé in his current state they needed to get him to Pepin as soon as possible.

“I think I found it!” Jeanne cried.

She ran over, a strange book in tow. Its pages were dark and it had a silver lock or, well, Noé thought it was probably silver. Everything in the room was so drenched in blood it was difficult to say.

The man nodded shakily.

“Okay, let’s go,” Noé said. Noé passed her a Scroll of Town Portal so she could summon it on her own--thankfully he’d thought to bring several so they might make their way home whenever they needed--and they were off in a rush of blue magic. When they arrived just outside the town square Jeanne quickly lifted the man and carried him carefully in her arms as Noé banged on Pepin’s door. He knew it was the dead of night but this was an emergency

Pepin opened the door and let out a shriek of horror. It occurred to Noé that they probably looked like the horrors they'd been fighting in the labyrinth. There was gunk in their hair, they were covered in blood, and they surely looked mad.

“It’s Noé, Master Pepin. We need you to heal this man. He’s dying!” Noé cried. The man in Jeanne’s arms let out something that might have been a protest but everyone ignored him.

“Right, right, hurry now! Lie him down on this table. I need both of you to assist me.”

The speed that Pepin transformed from tired old man to alert healer showed just how skilled he truly was. He directed Jeanne and Noé left and right without pause and soon they had the man relatively cleaned up and the gash in his side stitched.

“Oh, the wounds that Butcher inflicts are terrible, just terrible,” Pepin bemoaned. “It’s just like last time. There’s some kind of poison in his weapon, something unknown to me. This will take all my skill to treat.”

It may have taken all his skill but Pepin was a master and soon the man was breathing with a bit more ease. His face was waxen but he was alive. Noé collapsed in a nearby chair in relief. Jeanne leaned against the wall, clearly trying to compute what, exactly, had just happened.

“I don’t even want to know what horrors the two of you faced the last day or so but knowing the Butcher is dead will bring peace of mind to everyone, Farnham in particular. I’m glad Tristram has you on our side! But you need rest and, no offense, you’re both filthy…”

Noé let out a loud laugh while Jeanne just glared. There was no denying it though. The two of them looked disgusting.

“You can stay the night here if you like. Once you’re washed up I’d like to make sure neither of you were too badly injured yourselves.”

Jeanne and Noé both accepted his offer readily and made use of his bath. Jeanne immediately went to bed afterwards but Noé took some time to study the face of the man they’d saved as well as the book he’d insisted they retrieve no matter what the cost.

The man would surely need a bath himself once he could manage one but they’d cleaned him up as much as they could given the situation. He had dark hair arranged in an odd hairstyle and pale skin. He was dressed in rags but he had an earring in the shape of an hourglass in his left ear. Noé studied it curiously. Considering the state of the rest of his clothes it seemed strange he would have such an expensive looking adornment. Noé supposed he was reasonably attractive and now that they was out of the labyrinth Noé noticed he had a lovely scent about him. Still, what had struck him most was the blue of his eyes he’d seen momentarily before he’d fallen back into unconsciousness. It had been the same blue from his dream. Noé frowned. He suddenly wished he could remember it a little better.

He turned his attention to the book and lifted it gingerly. For someone to fixate on a book so much… Perhaps it was a spell book? A fellow sorcerer would go to great lengths to preserve a book of magic. Noé tried to open it but it was firmly locked. He hoped the man had the key otherwise whatever knowledge it contained would be difficult for him to access.

A yawn ripped its way out of him and Noé realized he was exhausted. It was the kind of bone-deep weariness that could have someone sleeping while they stood. Best to make his way to bed before that happened.

 _I wonder what tomorrow will bring,_ Noé wondered tiredly. If it was anything like the last two it would be formidable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter edited Feb. 25, 2019.


	2. Catacombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noé and Vanitas get to know each other, battles are fought, books are found, and Jeanne meets a hero of legend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a few adjustments to chapter one but nothing that would require a reread. I adjusted some of Noé's spells and added in a brief explanation of the Sin War. 
> 
> For reference, the Sin War was a battle waged by Heaven and Hell to see who would control the human/mortal realm, which is called Sanctuary, rather ironically, in the game.
> 
> Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't recommend the original _Diablo_ soundtrack for this story which can be found [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXUcwprvldc)

Noé came to slowly, feeling light and airy, as though there wasn’t anything around him at all. Briefly, he thought he caught the soft, floral scent that indicated Jeanne was nearby but when he opened his eyes he saw that wasn't the case; he was in a corridor made of stone steeped in the stench of death and decay.

He sat up carefully, taking it all in. Darkness swirled around him, the lone torch on the wall barely providing any detail. Suddenly, a wave of nausea struck him and it seemed the walls were moving in. He shuddered--the crumbling stone struck him with familiarity. He and Jeanne had been here before; this was beneath the Cathedral. He knew he wasn’t supposed to still be here; he needed to leave immediately but he was all alone. Where had Jeanne gone? Surely she’d been there just a moment ago.

As his confusion grew the corridor rumbled, some great presence making itself known. He was intruding in someone else's domain.

A shudder of fear ran through him.

_Help me._

He turned around. A flash of blue met him but it took a brief second for him to register what it was. When he did his breath breath hitched. It was the man from before! But he and Jeanne had rescued him. Why were they back in this place? They’d left the labyrinth, Noé was sure of it.

Suddenly the scene shifted and the man was cradled in his arms, his eyes glazed over in pain as he looked up at him, desperately trying to convey something.

_The book, Noé. You have to use the book!_

But Noé didn’t have the book. Noé didn’t have time—

_Oh, good. I caught you._

Noé looked around frantically only to discover there was nothing now. The man had disappeared along with the scenery only to be replaced with darkness. It wasn’t a frightening void this time. Rather than the cool, dank stones of the labyrinth it was simply … space.

A figure appeared before him and Noé felt himself relax. He knew exactly who this was.

“Teacher!”

 _Indeed. We haven’t much time,_ mon chaton. _You’ve come across something important. I think you know what it is._

Noé hesitated. His teacher had never been a particularly patient man and responding incorrectly to a question often resulted in a ceaseless lecture or a smack upside the head.

“The book?”

His teacher smiled encouragingly. _Just so. Learn of it, Noé. It might not save_ this _world but it will save_ a _world, so to speak. I suspect it will be one you will grow to care about a great deal._

As ever, his teacher spoke in riddles. "Worlds" could mean so many things. Did he mean Heaven? Hell? Sanctuary? Just as he was about to ask for clarification the world became hazy, dissolving like a painting might after it had been dunked in water.

Frustrated, he ran toward the enigmatic figure and reached out only to be pushed away by some unknown force. His teacher offered him a maddening smile.

“Don’t go! You can’t just—”

* * *

 

 “Noé, it’s time to get up!” a shrill voice called. Suddenly two hands shook him gently. Noé let out a loud groan. What was happening? Where was he? He’d traveled so far to study with Teacher per his own request but he wasn’t given an inch of leeway regarding his own freedom. He just wanted to sleep in for once. Was that so much to ask?

“Noé!”

He finally opened his eyes to be greeted not by his teacher but the healer, Pepin, whose wizened face had a concerned cast to it. Noé looked around groggily. Right, he wasn’t in Lut Gholein anymore. For a brief moment he was struck by a desperate longing for his teacher’s presence as he recollected the events of the previous day and yet it felt as though he’d seen him recently. Images flickered uncertainly in his mind's eye; he'd been dreaming and his teacher loved to contact him via dreams. He struggled to remember but the images refused to solidify. Even so, he’d spoken to his teacher, he was sure of it.

Oh, it would figure that his teacher would only impart priceless wisdom in his dreams but never in person. He’d often said that eyes were always watching; you couldn’t trust mere spoken words. Noé privately thought he was paranoid.

One thing he was certain of: he didn’t want to be here anymore. As frustrated as he was with his teacher’s methods he knew he held great knowledge. Far more than Noé ever would. If he would just make the journey to Tristram he could offer some real help but Noé knew he never would. The day he’d left Tristram was a dark one in Noé’s memory.

 _I cannot stay here any longer. What once was buried here will soon resurface and it’s in everyone’s best interest that I be far away when that happens._ Noé had begged him not to leave him all alone. He’d been afraid of himself at that point. He knew he was cursed (though his teacher insisted it was a blessing) and he was afraid it would someday get the better of him. His teacher had laughed at Noé’s worry and said he was being as senseless as ever. He’d given Melon to him on that day. His teacher often gave him gifts when he was doing something he knew Noé wouldn’t like.

“Noé…?”

Finally breaking out of his reverie he saw the concern marring Pepin’s face.

“I’m sorry, Master Pepin,” he offered as he clutched the man’s proffered hand. Slowly, he helped him sit up.

Pepin’s house was more a large, spacious room with a few areas sectioned off by large dividers to make it easier to treat multiple patients. Noé was behind one himself. Clearly this was one of the cots used for patients. He could smell the scent of dried herbs throughout his home.

“You were staring into the distance for some time. You weren’t injured too badly, so it can’t be due to a concussion but you and Jeanne need to be more careful. You were down there for a day and a half. It’s too dangerous to spend so much time with naught but demons for company!”

Noé was forced to agree. Whether he was human or not, he had started to feel strange down there. If it hadn’t been for Jeanne’s steadying presence he wasn’t sure he’d have fared nearly as well. She had an uncanny familiarity with the creatures they faced down there. Had she ventured down there before? She hadn’t mentioned going on Archbishop Lazarus’s expedition but that didn’t mean she’d never seen the environment. She had been a member of the Royal Guard and the guardian of Prince Luca. He supposed he’d have to ask her about it later.

“You’re right. I’ll be more careful from now on.” He and Jeanne would just have to traverse the labyrinth at a slower rate. He understood her desperation to save Prince Luca and Tristram. Noé felt similarly. But at the rate they were going they would surely perish. Noé frowned in consternation.

“Whatever were you dreaming about anyway? You were tossing and turning something fierce.” Pepin had disappeared behind the screen in favor of putting together some kind of potion. Noé couldn’t see it just yet but it was probably a restorative one if Noé hazarded a guess. It smelled suspiciously like coffee.

“I’m not sure,” Noé admitted. “It was like I was back in the labyrinth but I can’t recall all the details. Some of it was what we saw but the rest was … different.” He didn’t mention that his teacher had likely left a message for him that he couldn’t fully remember. It would only raise the obvious question: Why wasn’t he here? Noé wished he had a good answer for that. Perhaps someday his teacher would reveal some of his secrets to him but with the world in its current state Noé had a hard time imagining it would be any time soon.

Pepin hummed consideringly. “I’m no expert on dreams but I’d take whatever you saw seriously. Your teacher has the gift of foresight, hasn’t he? Gillian’s grandmother has a similar talent or so she says. What with all the strange things going on you’d best investigate it thoroughly. Perhaps you could speak to Adria about it. Gillian’s grandmother isn’t well; I don’t think she’d be up to it. Now, drink this,” he ordered, reappearing only to push the mug under Noé’s nose. “And don’t stop until you’ve finished it. You’re going to need as much energy as possible for the day.” Noé reluctantly obeyed and took a sip. It tasted better than he’d expected, like cinnamon.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, cradling the warm beverage in his hands.

Pepin sighed and suddenly he looked very much like a tired old man. Noé felt a stab of guilt. He and Jeanne had surely interrupted his sleep and by the looks of it he hadn’t gotten much after they’d retired either. How could he? He essentially had three patients to deal with. Speaking of…

“How is he? The man we brought back from the labyrinth. He was one of the people who went down there with Archbishop Lazarus, wasn’t he?”

Pepin frowned. “I was wondering when you’d ask after him. But no, I don’t believe he was. To be honest, I have no idea who he is. It was fortunate you found him when you did; I doubt he would have survived an injury like that. Still,” Pepin fiddled with the herbs before him, “what is that book of his? There’s something about it that leaves me feeling cold.”

Cold? When Noé had held the book earlier he hadn’t felt much of anything outside of idle curiosity. “I’m not sure. He insisted it be found, however.”

“Strange. I hope you haven’t gone and found more trouble,” Pepin said softly. “At any rate, come have some breakfast. Lady Jeanne is already having some.”

Breakfast sounded like a fantastic idea and Noé eagerly followed him from behind the divider. Noé quickly spotted Jeanne at the table pushed far into the corner amidst several shelves of herbs, jars, and books. She smiled broadly when she saw him.

“Thank goodness you’re all right. I’m sorry I pushed us so hard. I was so inconsiderate…”

“Don’t say that.” He took a seat beside her. “I wanted to keep going, mad as that sounds. But, uh, I suppose we should take more care,” he added at Pepin’s glare.

“Agreed.” Jeanne flushed in embarrassment under Pepin’s gaze. He brought out a heaping bowl of porridge and placed it in front of Noé. He nodded his thanks and began to dig in. He spotted the man lying in a cot not far from where his own had been. He chewed consideringly. He didn’t look much better from the night before but Noé thought there might be a bit more color to his skin.

“Is he awake?” he finally asked after he’d had seconds. He was concerned about the man but he was _starving._ Pepin didn’t seem overly concerned, so he allowed himself to indulge in the simple meal.

“Not yet,” Pepin sighed. “You can try to wake him if you like. Normally I’d say to let him sleep but I imagine you have questions and this is a state of emergency. I’ve already changed his bandages.” Pepin had a pinched look about him.

“Perhaps you should get some rest yourself,” Noé offered.

“Yes, I think maybe I shall. Let me know if either of you need anything.” He shambled off to the only adjoining room with nary a look around him.

“Of course,” Noé murmured after him.

“How was your rest?” Jeanne asked once Pepin’s snores filled the quiet space.

“I think I had a vision of some type,” Noé admitted reluctantly. He felt awkward saying something like that but he and Jeanne were partners in this escapade and it was best they kept as few secrets as possible.

Jeanne was quiet for a moment. Noé chanced a look up at her. She didn’t seem upset. Instead, she looked thoughtful.

“That could be useful. What do you remember about it?”

Noé explained as many details as possible including that he saw his teacher but ultimately he couldn’t remember _what_ his teacher had told him.

“Pepin’s right; we’ll need to see Adria right away. She’s the only person outside of Cain who might have some idea of what’s going on.”

Noé nodded, looking over at the man. He was beginning to stir; his brow was scrunched in pain.

Jeanne winced sympathetically. “We should wake him. I fear what horrors he’s seeing in his dreams.”

The two made their way over after stacking the plates. While he did indeed look better than he had the day before he still maintained a grayish hue to his skin. The way he was lying there brought a flash of his dream back to him. He’d been calling for help.  Without conscious thought Noé moved closer and took one of his hands in his own. His hand warmed Noé’s faintly but Noé wasn't exactly a good judge of whether he was at an adequate temperature or not. Noé's own skin was unnaturally cold due to his vampiric nature and as such everyone seemed warm in comparison.

Noé rubbed his hand between his in an effort to get the circulation going regardless.

Jeanne chuckled softly. Noé looked up at her questioningly.

“Oh! It’s just, well, you were the most concerned about him down there as well. It reminds me of someone I used to know. He also has a gentle heart.” She twiddled her thumbs awkwardly, her face a light pink. It occurred to Noé that Jeanne was quite different when she wasn’t slaying demons.

“You’re a kind person, too, Jeanne,” he said simply. He wondered if she was thinking of Prince Luca and what the situation had been but he wasn’t sure he could ask. Would it be seen as prying? He squeezed the man’s hand a little tighter in consternation.

She stuttered something out that may have been a thank you before obviously turning her attention toward the book. “Did Pepin ask you about this?”

Noé nodded absentmindedly. “He said it felt cold. I didn’t sense anything strange about it.” Noé had a hard time feeling any amount of concern over a book when the man before them seemed infinitely more interesting. True, he hadn’t actually _done_ anything aside from twitch a little but he was the only good thing to come of the mess with the Butcher. It was enough.

“I think I see what he means,” Jeanne muttered as she lifted it gingerly off the bedside table, turning it this way and that as Noé had done the night before. “There’s something strange about this book. Do you think it might be enchanted?”

“Possibly. I had thought it likely to be a book of spells at least. Let me take another look.” He gently placed one hand over the cover when Jeanne extended it while the other kept the man’s firmly in his grasp. He closed his eyes and focused, allowing himself to shift his senses from that of the regular world to the realm of the arcane. It was a subtle shift but once accomplished everything felt more electric. He could sense the very dust particles in the air.

There was a faint tug at his consciousness from the book. It had a distinct presence to it now that Noé was focusing but it was murky as though it was trying to disguise itself. Unsettled, Noé slowly let go and leaned back. He wouldn’t describe it as “cold” but it was disconcerting for sure.

_Learn of it, Noé._

“Jeanne!” She jumped at his sudden exuberance, nearly dropping the book in the process. “This is what my teacher was saying in the dream. He said I should learn about this book!”

“But why?” She studied it quizzically. “How is it important?”

“I don’t know. But maybe it will help in our quest! Maybe we were meant to find him.” Jeanne looked doubtful as she placed the book back on the bedside table but said nothing. Noé understood why. Enchanted items were a double-edged sword. They could be beneficial or they could hinder greatly and he couldn’t recall if his teacher had given a clue as to which way it went. They’d need to get information on it right away. Ideally, it would come from their guest but Noé supposed they could ask Cain as well. He tended to know far more about esoteric lore than he liked to claim.

“I suppose we have no choice but to wake him, Noé sighed. It was too risky having something like that in Tristram without any idea of what it was. As much as he surely needed his rest, they needed answers more. The world was at stake; healing was a luxury. Noé felt a twinge of regret as he rested a hand on his shoulder and gently shook when he didn’t respond to any verbal pleas.

The man let out a low groan. Noé couldn’t tell if it was out of pain or annoyance.

“It’s all right,” Noé began, “you’re safe now. Jeanne and I rescued you from the labyrinth.” His eyes slowly parted open and Noé was greeted once more by that strangely bright blue. It was yet another reminder of his faded dream.

“What?” he murmured, followed by, “Water.”

“Oh, right…” Noé looked up at Jeanne who had already left to fetch some. When she’d returned Noé had managed to get him into an upright position. He wobbled slightly in Noé’s arms and he wondered how long it would be before he could move about freely.

“Thanks,” he said brusquely.  They waited for him to have his fill only to be met with an annoyed glare once he had.

“Who are you? Where am I? It won’t do you any good to cast your illusions or poison me.” His voice was heavy with suspicion and, most worrisome of all, a strange acceptance as if he’d given up on good things happening to him long ago.

Jeanne looked at Noé silently as if to say, _He’s more your patient than mine_.

Taking the hint, Noé explained. “We rescued you from the Butcher in the labyrinth. You’re in Tristram. Do you remember any of that?”

“Tristram?” He frowned in consternation. Noé had a sneaking suspicion he’d never heard of their village.

“Yes,” Noé said patiently. “It’s a small village in Khanduras under the rule of King Leoric. Well, it was anyway.” At his blank look Noé continued, hoping _something_ would spark some kind of recognition. “The Cathedral here is where you escaped. You’re in Pepin’s house of healing right now. We haven’t tried to poison you or cast any illusions.” Noé wasn’t even particularly good at casting them anyway. His teacher had tried to get him to learn but it had always left a funny feeling in his stomach.

“What’s your name?” Jeanne prompted when the silence began to stretch on.

“I’m Vanitas,” he said slowly. “I got my name from the book.” He dropped the cup suddenly and turned about, crying out in pain as he did so. Noé barely caught the cup in time and Jeanne rushed over to restrain him.

“You’re going to tear out your stitches!”

 Vanitas paid her no heed. “You did get the book, didn’t you? I cannot be parted from it. It has to be here!”

Noé gestured to where the book lay beside him. His shoulders visibly relaxed. He reached for it before yanking his arm away as if burned.

“What is it about this book?” Noé said softly. He looked frightened of it yet he clearly coveted it as well.

“It’s  _The_   _Book of Vanitas_. I suppose you could say it exorcises demons among other things.” Silence. Jeanne and Noé stared at each other. Exorcise demons? An ability like that would be of significant value in the fight against Diablo.

Vanitas snorted in irritation in a fashion that was entirely too lively for someone who had nearly died just a day earlier. “Don’t look so excited. It can only contain one at a time.”

“Contain?” Jeanne said suspiciously. Vanitas’s face split into a dark grin. Noé didn’t like the expression at all.

“Oh, yes. Exorcism isn’t some simple matter where you say a few words and the spirit is cleansed. You have to physically rip the soul from the body. It looked quite painful actually," he mused thoughtfully. "This book can contain but one demon’s soul or essence,” he held up his index finger in emphasis, “and it’s already holding one and I’m not about to let it out for anything. So don’t get your hopes up about purging the Burning Hells. I suppose that’s what the two of you are trying to do if you’re not demons yourselves?”

Noé and Jeanne shifted awkwardly in unison. “We are trying to cleanse the Cathedral,” Noé finally said.

“We’re also rescuing Prince Luca. He was kidnapped,” Jeanne added.

“Neither of those things means anything to me,” Vanitas muttered in annoyance. “I just want out of here. I refuse to go back.”

“You don’t seem to know anything about Tristram. Where, exactly, are you from?” Jeanne said it neutrally but Noé could tell she was beginning to grow suspicious of what Vanitas had been up to. Noé had to admit he was concerned at the revelation the book held a demon’s soul in it as well. It certainly explained what he’d felt earlier but it meant this was clearly a dangerous item. What “other things” did it do, exactly?

“Who knows?” Vanitas shrugged. “I was held captive in Hell for so long I don’t remember.”

Noé gaped at him. Very few lived through a brief excursion through Hell but Vanitas was saying he’d lived there? How was that even possible?

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jeanne murmured. “No one should have to go through that. How on earth did you escape?”

“I don’t need your pity,” he snapped. “I finally bested the demon that fancied me.” He glanced at the book and Noé froze. His captor was in this room? In that very book?

“How can you keep it with you? Wouldn’t you want it as far from you as possible?” he said disbelievingly.

Vanitas glowered up at him. “If I leave it about someone could unleash it and things would be far worse for me in the long run if they did. I doubt she would be pleased at my having bested her after all this time. Furthermore, binding a demon to the book binds it to the user as well. It’s a blood ritual. Most spells involving creatures of Hell require such things.” He said it casually as if he was perfectly all right with spending the rest of his life hoarding the soul of whoever had wronged him. Maybe he was.

“Regardless, what will this do to Tristram?” Jeanne said.

“It will do nothing to this quaint village especially since I’ll be leaving,” Vanitas all but growled. “I’m hungry. The two of you aren’t particularly hospitable, do you know that?”

“I’ll get it,” Noé said immediately. He found he needed space from this strange man who treated the subject of demons like casual conversation. Considering how small the house was it wasn’t a great deal of space. Noé crouched at the hearth and spooned some more porridge from the cauldron. He took a deep breath and gazed into the dimming flames. All this talk of demons, all this talk of cleansing the Cathedral, made him think about his own condition when he hadn’t had any reason to give it much thought for years.

He wasn’t human. He was cursed. His teacher had said as much.

 _Where did you find me, Teacher?_ He’d wanted to know at the time. They had finally settled in Tristram after several years’ worth of travel but he knew it couldn’t have possibly been his country of origin. He looked nothing like any of the other residents.

_Find you? Out on the outskirts of Kurast. Your parents were dead and you would have soon followed. The swamp isn’t kind to small children, you know. Most natural elements aren’t. At any rate, I was in need of a successor and no one in Hell would do hence why I was in Sanctuary. I could sense a great talent for magic hidden away in that small body of yours and so I made you my own._

Yes, his teacher was a member of the demonic horde, a small detail Noé ensured never reached the light of day. Furthermore, his teacher had changed him. He had been human at the time, his teacher had said as much in a tone that clearly conveyed he considered it a pathetic state of affairs. He often claimed he’d saved Noé from a life of boredom if not death. Noé wasn’t so sure. Humans seemed to have a decent time of things despite their short lives. He would never know now. His teacher had changed him that day into a fellow demon, more specifically a vampire. Vampires were one of the more intelligent denizens of Hell and exercised independent will unlike some of the other species. His teacher was proof of that.

How long could he keep this from Jeanne? He’d never been to Hell. He had no idea what would happen to him as they got closer to their destination. His teacher had ensured they never visited though he’d never explained why. He clearly held contempt for humanity yet he made sure Noé bonded with them. He spent a great deal of time instructing Noé in how to blend in even as he did very little to blend in himself. How no one had figured out something was amiss was a mystery to Noé. His teacher radiated cold and enjoyed firelight more than anyone he’d ever met. People always just said he was an eccentric. Noé marveled at how good people were at convincing themselves of that no matter the evidence to the contrary. Noé himself had quickly learned to keep his body temperature at a more life-like temperature through spells and he was still colder than most.

“Is everything all right?” Noé flinched. He hadn’t heard Jeanne approach but she was crouched beside him now, a worried frown tugging at her lips.

“Not really,” Noé admitted. “I suppose I’m not sure what to make of all these revelations.”

“I know. I’m not sure myself. But we probably shouldn’t keep food from our guest,” Jeanne said, a touch of amusement in her voice. “I think we can learn more from him. He claims he’s escaped from Hell. If that’s the case he’ll know the labyrinth better than anyone. We should get a description of what to expect before we return.”

Vanitas was studying them both intently, Noé in particular much to his chagrin. He brought the bowl over and Vanitas snatched it from him with and gave it a suspicious sniff. Silence filled the room as Vanitas slowly ate. Jeanne eventually excused herself after getting Noé to confirm he’d keep an eye on Vanitas for the time being. It went without saying that she also meant the book. She needed to get her sword and armor repaired at Griswold’s. Noé had no doubt of that. She’d been at the forefront of their battle and had taken the majority of the hits.

After she’d left Vanitas demanded a healing potion, saying he wanted to leave in a few hours. Noé let out a huff of irritation. As if that was about to happen.

“It’s not always wise to rush the healing process,” Noé cautioned. “They’re intended for emergencies. You know, in the middle of battle.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes. “Then use a healing spell. You’re a sorcerer, aren’t you? You were trying to cast it back then. Why didn’t you?”

Noé flushed. Out of all of the things Vanitas could remember, why did it have to be Noé’s utter failure back then?

“A healing spell amounts to the same thing as a healing potion,” Noé muttered, looking away. “Back then I—”

“Was afraid?” The words were mocking but the tone was contemplative. “I wouldn’t have thought someone like you would be afraid down there. Jeanne, was it? She seemed fine.”

“Yes, well, she’s experienced battle before. I was just coming along as support. I’ve never had to use so many spells in a row. Teacher never said it would be so draining…”

Vanitas reached over and grabbed his wrist. At first Noé thought he was trying to comfort him but when he began to turn his hand this way and that he had a sinking sensation that that wasn’t it at all.

“You’re cold. Maybe you should sit nearer the fire?” His calm tone of voice belied the sharp look in his eyes and Noé wondered if Vanitas was some kind of mind reader. He snatched his hand away and Vanitas let it go easily. His skin burned where his grip had been.

“I just run cooler. I feel all right at the moment.”

Vanitas’s fingers twitched as though he wanted to grab Noé once more and check that statement for himself. “Whatever. It’s none of my business anyway. I won’t be staying here for long.”

Noé felt a pang of loss at that. Vanitas could be an incredible guide and beyond that Noé found he didn’t want him to go just yet. He was a puzzle; he'd survived Hell and had a demon shackled to his side. How could Noé not be at least a little intrigued?

“Heal me,” Vanitas demanded again.

“You can’t just up and leave.”

“You and Jeanne just said it could be dangerous for the book to be here. The sooner I leave the sooner you don’t have to worry about it.”

“That’s not—you know it’s not that simple.”

Vanitas let out a sharp laugh. “Am I a prisoner here now?”

“What? No!” Noé recoiled in horror.

“Then do it.”

“All right, all right, just don’t leave so soon? We could use whatever information you have. This battle isn’t going to be easy.”

“Of that I have no doubt. I also have no doubt you’ll fail. You cannot defeat Diablo. You do realize that’s who you’re facing? Do you know the lengths required to seal him away the first time?”

“It required the sacrifice of many Horadrim to seal him away in a Soulstone,” Noé recited blandly. His teacher often asked such questions to keep his mind sharp and, more importantly, see if Noé was actually paying attention. At this point in time, everything about the Sin War was so firmly ingrained in his mind that he could probably give Vanitas a blow-by-blow account of it.

“Hmm, you’re well informed,” Vanitas said in a decidedly unimpressed tone of voice. "Makes your determination all the more bewildering."

Noé's hackles rose at that. “The odds may be against us but our losing isn't preordained.”

“Look,” Vanitas snapped, “I don’t know what is going on in this village exactly, but from what little you’ve told me your Cathedral holds one of the Prime Evils. Your king is dead, your prince is missing, and I’m still unclear what has happened to your archbishop but he’s apparently gone as well. Every symbol of power here is failing and you have an army of demons running amuck under your very feet. You think you stand a chance? Don’t make me laugh.”

“What would you have us do?” Noé said angrily. “We can’t abandon the village to evil!”

“If you had any sense you’d just move the village.”

Noé choked in anger. Move the village? As if that was all there was to worry about! Surely Vanitas knew Diablo would spread his evil across the world?

“Yes, I know,” Vanitas said in response to his silent question. “But the world will fall. There isn’t much to be done about it save to find a decent place to hide away. I’ve seen the Burning Hells; you cannot escape. Not really,” he sighed.

Noé’s anger was swiftly replaced with a deep sadness. Of course Vanitas couldn’t hold out hope. He’d never lived in Sanctuary; he’d likely only seen the might of Hell and nothing more. He had no reason to believe the forces of good could triumph.

“What of the High Heavens?” Noé offered.

“I doubt they’ll have much influence in this battle.”

“Vanitas,” Noé said gently. “You tried to escape. Surely you didn’t do that just to live in another realm under the thumb of one of the Prime Evils?”

For the first time in their conversation Vanitas looked uncertain. It made him seem terribly young and Noé wondered if perhaps there was a chance he could convince Vanitas that the world wasn’t about to go to hell in a hand basket.

“I know that everything you’ve seen is to the contrary but there is good in this world. Isn’t that why you tried so hard to reach it? Even if we don’t have a chance, we have to try. I can’t allow the world to perish and fall to evil. I want everyone to live here peacefully.”

“Oh, no,” Vanitas said softly. “You're one of those hero types. You probably think you could reason with Diablo himself if only you could find the right words.”

“Why, do you think I’d have a chance?” Noé teased.

Vanitas stared at him before he let out a loud snort and was suddenly doubled over in laughter that was quickly cut off by a pained moan. He clutched at his side in pain. “Just cast a healing spell! Stop distracting me,” he forced out.

At that, Pepin appeared, the door of his bedroom opening with a touch more force than was really necessary. “The two of you don’t believe in letting an old man sleep, do you?” It was the first time Noé had ever heard real annoyance in his voice. “And what’s all this about health potions and healing spells? I’m the healer; I’ll take care of this. I didn’t do it initially because, as Noé pointed out, forcing the body to stitch itself back together so hastily can have unfortunate consequences later but if you’re in such a hurry, let’s just get this over.”

Vanitas’s mouth was ajar and it occurred to Noé that Vanitas hadn’t been awake to see Pepin in the first place. Had he forgotten he was here?

Pepin shuffled over, clearly still annoyed, but as he rested his hands over Vanitas’s side, covered in bandages that hid the stitches there, he clearly calmed and allowed his professional veneer to take over. Vanitas let out a soft gasp when the spell hit him but judging by the soft features of his eyes it must have simply been surprise rather than pain.

“There. Noé, show our guest around. He should be able to move around without much difficulty now.”

“Yes, Master Pepin,” Noé mumbled awkwardly. “Grab your book. There’s not much to see but we should find Jeanne and get you some clothes made up. I also have several other errands to run.”

“You keep talking as though I’m going to stay,” Vanitas growled but he got up and fetched his book. He’d look a little strange wandering about in just his trousers and bandages, surely he would be cold, but Vanitas flounced out the front door without a glance backwards. Noé wasn’t in the mood for another disagreement, so he followed along.

When the cool morning air hit them it was like being in another reality. In just a day and a half Noé had accepted the labyrinth as his new “normal.” The stale air had become familiar as well as the constant lingering scent of death. Being out in the open felt dangerous and yet Noé knew it was surely safer than that underground descent.

Noé shook himself out of his reverie to tell Vanitas they’d need to visit a seamstress right away but paused when he saw the look on his face. Vanitas’s eyes had gone wide and they gleamed with some profound emotion.

“Vanitas?”

Visibly forcing himself to calm down he said, “I’ve never seen the outside world before. I—I didn’t really believe her when she described it. I thought it was just another way to torment me.”

Noé’s heart stirred with pity. Vanitas had been denied everything to the point where the sight of a simple village, no more visibly stunning than all the rest with its humble roads and simple folk, could move him so. No, they couldn’t ask him to return with them, no matter how useful his knowledge would be. He deserved to see the world and relish in it as Noé had.

“Come on,” Noé said gently. “We’ll get you some clothes and some supplies and, if you like, I can show you around for a bit.”

“Yes,” Vanitas said, clearly still disbelieving what was before him. Noé extended his hand cautiously when it became apparent he had no intention of moving from the doorstep. He remembered Vanitas had complained his touch was cold but he was wearing gloves now. He flinched slightly but hesitantly grasped it. It felt a little strange to be leading a grown man around by the hand but Vanitas clearly needed some kind of emotional guidance. Tristram was hardly an overbearing village but Vanitas’s eyes kept glancing back and forth as though he expected something to lunge at him from any direction. Noé supposed he had good reason to maintain such instincts.

They made their way in silence to Griswold’s home. He was a blacksmith and Vanitas would surely need armor eventually but his wife was also a skilled seamstress and her skills were more readily useful. It would also allow him to inform Jeanne of his plans for the day. The entrance was large and open, the orange light of the forges lighting the inside brightly.

The moment he entered he could see Jeanne sitting beside him, the two obviously deep in conversation. She was wearing a simple tunic and Griswold was already working on the bent up armor. When Griswold looked up his face split in a wide grin. Jeanne nodded by way of greeting, clearly still deep in thought over whatever Griswold had told her.

“Oh, Noé! It’s good to see you. You’ve been back for how long and you haven’t made a stop here; I’m appalled!” Griswold’s booming voice filled the air, his accent as strong as ever. Vanitas held back but Noé gently pulled him along as he hailed Griswold cheerfully. He hadn’t changed a bit. His arms were still heavily muscled and he was still bald. His deep set brown eyes crinkled with joy as he pulled him into a tight embrace.

“It’s been too long, indeed! If you could but make a staff for me I’d have a reason to visit with more frequency.” Noé patted him on the back and hoped Griswold wouldn’t accidentally crush him in his arms.

“You sorcerer’s and your penchant for wooden craftsmanship is a real shame, you know?” He held Noé at arm’s length, studying him critically. “What’s a blacksmith to do? Now, who’s this with you? You look like you’ve been put through the wringer, lad.”

Vanitas looked at Noé uncertainly. He’d all but leapt away when Griswold had approached and was holding his book tightly in a stance that could have been considered aggressive if he’d been holding a sword.

“This is Vanitas. He’s an … acquaintance. We were hoping Brynhild might be able to make him some new clothes. I’ll pay, obviously,” Noé added hastily. He didn’t want to come across as asking for a favor. Vanitas was starting to look extremely uncomfortable but he didn’t lower the book.

“I’m sure she’d be happy to! Oh, we’ll need to get him some shoes as well! Honestly, letting your guest walk around like this, Noé.” The disapproval in his voice was palpable.

“He came to us under unusual circumstances,” Jeanne finally spoke up. “Are you sure this sword is beyond repair?”

Ah, so that’s what they’d been talking about.

Griswold let out a huff. “I can repair it no problem but it’s probably not going to be enough to fight the hordes of Hell. Why not have me make something special? Or at least get this sword enchanted.  You’re going to have a devil of a time fighting, well, the devil.”

Jeanne’s shoulders drooped and Griswold looked regretful. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to say anything negative about the sword. It’s truly a fine piece. I’m just worried. I’ve seen that labyrinth and the swarms there… Ah, sorry Noé. Brynhild! You’ve a customer!”

A tall, thin woman came down the stairs, her footsteps resounding loudly in the open space. Vanitas was standing a bit behind him, clearly on guard.

Brynhild was a formidable looking woman, so Noé could almost understand Vanitas’s reaction. She had long, unbound hair the color of straw and piercing cornflower blue eyes accented by crow’s feet. She surveyed the room before letting her gaze rest on Vanitas.

“Is this my customer?”

“Aye, he’s a guest of Noé’s. He’ll need a bit of everything.”

“Very well. Come this way; we’ll get your measurements and get an estimate of the price.” She gestured for Vanitas to follow who glanced at Noé with trepidation.

“I’ll come with you,” Noé said. Vanitas nodded with restrained relief. 

“I’ll stay here,” Jeanne sighed. “I really need to get this sorted out right away. I’ll admit the further down we got the less effective my weaponry felt.” She looked incredibly disappointed at this. Noé wondered what meaning the sword carried for her to be so reluctant to part with it. Perhaps it was simply that she was familiar with it.

Once they were upstairs in Brynhild’s workroom Vanitas held his arms aloft as she measured his waist followed by his arm span and just about everything else. She was quick in her work, a testament to how well she knew what she was doing. Vanitas bore it with the rigid posture of one who had been condemned. Noé stood awkwardly in the corner and wondered if he had the gold to cover this and why he even cared so much.

“He’ll need a pair of shoes, at least two tunics and trousers, and a cloak. That should get him through the fall and winter seasons. You can worry about the warmer seasons later. Depending on the material you choose it would be anywhere from 10,000 to 20,000 gold pieces.”

It was about what Noé had expected. Vanitas just stared at the wall blankly. Noé supposed money wasn’t something he’d had to contend with until now as well. What did demons use to barter goods? He considered it a moment before firmly blocking all the images that brought to mind. Maybe he didn’t want to know.

“I’ll take your advice on what’s best. If the more expensive version would last him longer than we’ll go with that.”

She considered it for a moment. “We’re entering the cold season. I’d suggest some leather boots and wool clothes, so 13,000 gold pieces total.”

“We’ll do that then.”

“You there,” Brynhild turned her attention back to Vanitas. “What’s your color preference?”

 _Anything but purple_ , Noé privately hoped. Purple was the most expensive color to make. It would easily take things well over the 20,000 gold pieces she’d initially mentioned.

Vanitas blinked. “I’m not sure I have one. Anything but red, orange, or brown.”

“I can work with that,” Brynhild muttered to herself. “How about blue? It’s a cheap color to make; I’ll just need a bit of woad.”

Vanitas shrugged casually but his expression was grim. “It sounds fine.”

“That’s all I’ll need then. Luckily for you we’ve had several pairs of boots made already. Take your pick from over there and this spare tunic in the meantime.” Vanitas mumbled a thank you and Noé passed over a few gold pieces.

When they returned downstairs, Vanitas now better dressed for the cold, Jeanne was still speaking animatedly with Griswold. Noé overheard something about pricing and enchantments so they must be making progress.

“I’m going to show Vanitas around and get the maps sorted out,” Noé said. Jeanne nodded absently and he dragged Vanitas away.  As soon as they exited Vanitas drew him to the side of the building and rounded on him, his face pinched with exhaustion.

“Why are you doing all of this?” he said stiffly. “I may not have much experience here but that is surely a large sum of money. You don’t even know me.”

While it wasn’t the largest sum of money Noé had ever spent it was still a fair amount. It was certainly a reasonable question. He found he was at a loss to explain it. It was one thing to do good by rescuing him but some would say this was going a step too far. But was he really supposed to just leave him to fend for himself? He didn’t know the first thing of life outside Hell.

“I don’t want to abandon you,” Noé sighed, hoping the villagers wouldn’t notice them and wonder what they were doing huddling behind Griswold's shop like a couple of thieves.

“Why not?”

“It would be wrong,” Noé said. “I didn’t help save you from that place just for you to die to the elements later on.”

“Why’d you bother saving me at all?” He crossed his arms aggressively before forcing them back down as if it were something he wasn’t supposed to do.

_Why’d you call for help if you didn’t think anyone would come?_

It wasn’t something he could ask though and Vanitas was clearly already uncomfortable despite his efforts.

“I did it because no one should have to suffer that place. Regardless of what you do I’m glad I helped.”

Noé expected him to retort, to offer some kind of resistance, but what he got instead was unexpected. The indignation left him completely and his fists relaxed. “You just did it because it was the right thing to do, is that what you’re saying?”

“I did. I suppose that sounds … strange to you?”

Vanitas gave him a wry grin. Noé found it brightened his features significantly. It was almost beautiful.

“It does," he said. "But you make me want to believe in it. That’s an odd ability for someone I’ve only just met.”

"I hope someday it becomes more believable," Noé said softly. "I would show you myself if you planned on staying."

"Hm." It was a pleasant, low sound. "You're quite the tempter, aren't you? I suppose I should say thank you. It's not something you really do where I'm from, not as such, and I don't know how you do it here but..." With utmost care he drew closer and closer until Noé nearly stepped back, unsure what he intended and leery of any hellish custom, but all Vanitas did was gently peck him on the cheek. This close Noé could smell his scent, warm and human, and his lips were like a brand against his skin.

When he stepped away he let out a mischievous chuckle but worry lurked in his eyes. "Oh, your expression! You look like you've seen a ghost."

“I--" Noé's grasp of language was escaping him. He felt his face warm slightly. "I said I would show you around town. Did you still want to?” he finally managed.

He considered it momentarily, sizing Noé up as he did so. “I suppose I will need some idea of the terrain if I’m to leave.” Hesitantly, he gripped Noé’s hand once more. “Lead the way.”

* * *

 

 The two wandered about Tristram for a time. The air was brisk and if he hadn’t known what was beneath him it would have been a calming fall day. Noé studied Vanitas's borrowed tunic; the blue and grey tones suited him well. He hoped whatever Brynhild put together had a similar color scheme.

“Oh, we’re approaching the river," Noé said when the sound of flowing water reached him. "Actually, I needed to speak with Adria; I believe she lives around here.” He’d never met her, hadn’t even known she was in this neck of the woods, until Ogden had mentioned it to him the other day. Still, having a witch around was a great boon in these times.

Vanitas nodded absently, his eyes straying toward the river. It was rushing past, a cascade of sound ringing pleasantly through the air.

“It’s so clear. This river isn’t tainted by anything, is it?”

“Not to the best of my knowledge. Jeanne and I had to purify the water supply not long ago and the contamination hasn’t returned.”

“It’s beautiful. Everything out here is so… It’s completely different. The only rivers you get down there are rivers of lava or acid.” He continued to gaze upon it but his sight had turned inwards. Noé wished he understood his past a little better.

“It doesn’t sound like a pleasant place to be,” Noé said and gripped his hand tightly to bring him out of whatever thoughts plagued him.

Vanitas started slightly but offered him a wry grin. “No, definitely not. I’d rather be here with you even if this world will fall soon.”

“It’s safe at the moment. Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe,” Vanitas said quietly, “but it won’t be forever and... You’re really going back there, aren’t you?” he said suddenly. “Don’t you fear death?”

“I do,” Noé admitted. “I don’t think it matters though. I tried to convince myself nothing was wrong. I tried to reason with Jeanne that things couldn’t be that bad. But they are and I think I knew it the moment I stepped foot back in Tristram.”

“I can sense it, too,” Vanitas sighed. “And not just because I spent so much time down there with those beasts.” Noé couldn’t help but glance down at the book at his hip. Vanitas’s gaze followed his and he smiled bitterly. “Yes, I suppose I haven’t really escaped after all. I can still hear her, you know. I’m not sure her voice will ever fall silent.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Wouldn’t you want to claim any kind of freedom available to you if the chance presented itself? I was a prisoner for so long. I wanted something new.” Freedom… For so long Noé had longed for something similar. It was part of why he’d traveled to see his teacher--he wanted to see the world. Yes, he could understand that.

“I’m glad you escaped. I feel like we were supposed to meet one another.”

Vanitas eyed him disdainfully. “Destiny? I hope not. If the hand of God is real then my suffering was simply meant to be. I don’t want to think there was some great purpose behind it.” He clenched his jaw and his hand tightened around Noé's own. “It was my own will that allowed me to escape.”

“I understand. I always liked to think there was a reason behind difficult times but I don’t think my teacher did. He would have agreed with you.”

“Then your teacher is a sensible man. Are we nearly there? I’m tired.”

He did look tired, too. He had heavy shadows under his eyes and he was swaying ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to make it quick. I’m just not sure who else to ask about my dream.”

“A dream?” Vanitas looked at him strangely. “What are you on about?”

Noé quickly summed up what he could remember. It didn’t take very long but when he’d finished Vanitas was giving him a raised brow.

“I’ve shown up in two of your dreams now?”

“I think so.”

“This is how you’ve gotten that whole destiny thing stuck in your head. Dreams are just a bunch of nonsense.” He said it uncertainly, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.

“Maybe,” Noé said noncommittally, “but Adria might be able to help me sort this out.”

"I suppose that rundown shack is hers?" Vanitas sighed. Ahead of them was definitely a building that looked like it was hanging on through sheer willpower alone. 

"Guess so," he said.

"Figures," Vanitas mutttered.

* * *

 

 When they got to Adria’s hut it became quickly apparent that she was a tad eccentric. Her shack was barely held together and the front yard had an enormous cauldron with something bubbling inside. She was murmuring something over it, gazing into it intently.

“I sense a soul in search of answers,” she said suddenly, looking up to meet Noé’s eyes.

Her skin was gray and she wore a simple black dress. She must have made quite an impression when she arrived at the village. Noé would have loved to see it; she looked almost as suspicious as his teacher, so naturally no one had thought to ask questions, but she was still an odd figure.

“Good afternoon,” Noé said. “I was told you might be able to help me sort out a portentous dream?”

“Oh,” she said, cackling in delight. “I certainly could. Let’s go inside shall we? It will be awhile yet before this brew is done.”

“You’re really just going to go in there, aren’t you?” Vanitas said in disbelief as she walked through the open door.

“She invited us in,” Noé said blankly.

“Yes, but… Never mind. Let’s see what she has to say.” 

Vanitas followed him with notable reluctance into the building and Noé spared a brief moment to wonder at the fact he was following him at all. If he wanted to leave he could at any moment but instead he kept pushing himself to remain at Noé's side despite how uncomfortable he was doing so.

They sat across from her on decidedly rickety chairs paired with an equally disheveled table. Vanitas sat a bit closer than was absolutely necessary, his posture hunched over and wary.

If Noé had thought Pepin’s home was stuffed full of herbs it had nothing on Adria’s. There were so many scents permeating the air even Noé's sharp nose was having a hard time determining what they were. There were bookshelves stuffed with all manner of occult objects and protective wards imbued into the beams of the ceiling and wall. The amount of intricate work in the spells left Noé impressed; Adria was a careful woman.

“Tell me, what troubles you?” she said after she'd offered them some tea.

As he spoke he felt Vanitas’s eyes trained on him and the warmth radiating off of him. His hand was close to his own as if he wanted to grab it and force them to leave or perhaps it was simply to reassure himself. Either way, Noé found he enjoyed having someone with him.

When he finished his tale Adria let out a thoughtful hum. “It sounds like a prophetic dream, certainly. But these things cannot be forced to the surface.”

Noé glanced away, disappointed. Adria let out a good-humored tut and leaned in to say, “But we _can_ encourage the memories to come back. Just take a sip of this each day. Just a sip! And you may soon find the answer you seek.” She shook a large, round jar before him. It was filled with a clear elixir that could almost be mistaken for water. There was something strange about it though and when Noé looked closer he saw it shone silver in the light.

“Are there any side effects?” Noé asked hesitantly.

“It might make you tired, so take care. It also doesn't mix well with other spells or with overexertion, so try to keep your spiritual reserves up when you drink it. Use it before you sleep but know it may prevent any future dreams from occurring.”

“Thank you. I will take care with it.” He gave her the appropriate amount of money, thanked her once more, and took his leave, Vanitas following him eagerly. As they walked he held the elixir before him and wondered if he'd have any success with it. He could admit to himself he was a little worried about drinking something he hadn't made himself but Adria had no reason to poison him or lead him astray. He'd simply have to take care.

Vanitas seemed to have a similar thought for he gestured for Noé to let him take a look. He swirled the liquid about, his lips pursed, before saying, "Are you sure this is wise?"

"Not really," Noé admitted, taking the elixir back. "But my teacher wouldn't contact me unless it was regarding something truly important. He can be ... mysterious but he always has a point. I have to remember what he said."

"I don't think I like it," Vanitas said with a frown. "Magic is dangerous."

"It can be," Noé agreed. Certainly Vanitas's own involvement in magic had been iffy at best. "I don't sense anything malicious in this potion, so hopefully there won't be any side effects."

"That's not the only thing I dislike," Vanitas muttered. "But it's none of my concern."

* * *

 

 When they returned to Tristram proper Noé was pulled aside by Griswold almost immediately.

“Noé, you and Jeanne intend to return to the labyrinth tomorrow, isn’t that right?”

Noé blinked in confusion. “If all goes according to plan then yes. We’ve already been gone too long.”

Griswold scoffed. “You’ve hardly been away for a day. But if you’re dead set on it, I have a request for you. Not too long ago a caravan came through headed for the Eastern Kingdoms. They had some manner of heavenly stone with them. Unfortunately, they were beset by demons and none survived.”

Noé wanted to point out he sounded a little too excited despite the gravity of the news but before he could get a word in edgewise he continued.

“I believe those foul beasts must have taken the stone with them. If you chance upon it, bring it back to me. I’m sure I could forge something great to wield against them. It might be enough to turn the tides of this war!”

“I’ll keep an eye out," Noé sighed. "Did you tell Jeanne about it?”

“I did. I got her armor sorted out and a new sword for her, too. Brynhild should have this lad’s clothes finished by tomorrow as well. At any rate, when I mentioned the stone to her I could tell she was excited--as she should be!-- and I’m sure it’s a worthy thing to pursue.”

“Sounds like you’re sending them on a wild goose chase to me,” Vanitas spoke up suddenly. “How do you know this stone is actually from the heavens? How do you know it has any magical properties whatsoever?”

“I don’t,” Griswold admitted. “It was merely a rumor. I’m not asking you to actively seek it out. I’m just saying if you _do_ find it see if you can bring it back. We’re fighting a losing war, lad,” Griswold said severely. “We have to take all the chances we can get.”

Vanitas snorted softly but said nothing more. It was clear what his opinion on their chances were but Griswold just took a deep breath and said Jeanne was at the tavern before bidding them both farewell.

“You really need to stop doing that,” Noé said when they were out of earshot. “You don’t have to believe in us but what good does it do to send the village into a panic?”

“Maybe none but they should know the truth.”

Noé gave an irritated huff but left it alone. When they got back to the tavern Jeanne was there as Griswold said she’d be, her eyes alight with excitement from where she sat. She waved them both over.

“Noé! Did you hear of the Heaven Stone?”

Vanitas rolled his eyes but took a seat with them both regardless.

“Yes, Griswold caught me before getting here. It sounds like it would be magnificent.”

“A magnificent waste of time,” Vanitas muttered.

“We must find it,” Jeanne continued, resolutely ignoring Vanitas..

“Shouldn’t we focus on clearing the area? I mean, if we do find it that would be wonderful but there’s no guarantee…”

“Of course there isn’t. But we need something to turn the tide. Surely you can see that?”

“I can,” Noé said. “Let’s keep an eye out for it tomorrow. Vanitas, please tell us everything you know of the labyrinth before you head out.” Vanitas blinked slowly before collecting himself.

“So, you really will be leaving.” Jeanne eyed him with obvious annoyance.

“That is the plan,” Vanitas said stiffly. “But I’ll tell you both what I know before I do so. It’s the least I can do for all the generosity you’ve shown me.” His eyes briefly met Noé’s before he hastily looked away. He tapped the table and Noé couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or annoyance.

Vanitas sat a little more resolutely before he began. “You’ve only skimmed the surface of the labyrinth as I’m sure you know. There are four main areas. You’ve already traversed the first more or less. Next you’ll find the catacombs. This is where kings of old were buried but the dead are far from silent.” Vanitas paused for a moment to take a sip of the water Ogden had set hastily before moving on to other customers. He seemed uneasy.

“Your ‘magic rock’ would probably be there if it’s anywhere. I doubt they’ve had enough time to take it all the way to Hell and some of the creatures in the area would enjoy such a relic. The High Heavens are far from popular there as you might guess. Some mages make their domain in that area though, so they’d have reason to study it.”

“What else resides there?” Jeanne said.

“Acid beasts, goatmen, magi, and some overlords. Those last ones are rather like the Butcher. Let’s hope they don’t wield a cleaver, hm?”

“Yes, indeed,” Jeanne said dryly.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way to just … skip the area?” Noé said nervously.

“If there was I would have used it,” Vanitas said irritably. “At any rate, what you’ll find next is the caves. It’s horrible there: dark, dank, nothing but dirt and the scent of brimstone. If you manage to even get there you’ll wish you were dead. It’s an easy place to die.”

Noé resisted the urge to demand how he'd escaped if it was so easy to die there but Vanitas was already continuing.

“If you somehow manage to get past _that_ then, congratulations, you’re in Hell. At the moment it’s guarded primarily by the Hell Knights. They are by far the worst,” Vanitas said quietly. “I would recommend running should you stumble upon one of the knights. They were once human,” Jeanne’s eyes widened at that, “and they’re all the more clever for it.”

“They were once human?” Noé whispered.

“The Hell Knights are humans who have been cursed. More specifically, they are humans who failed in some kind of holy duty, such as guarding someone important. Be careful around them.”

“Could King Leoric’s guard have become something like that?” Jeanne whispered. “How can that be?”

“All kinds of people fall to the darkness,” Vanitas said nonchalantly. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “So it’s certainly possible. I’m not familiar with his guard but I doubt anyone can resist Diablo’s influence for long. Why is that surprising? Honestly, there’s nothing good down there. You’re insane for making the journey.”

“What about the magi that are said to be down there? Are they humans that fell prey to dark magic?” Jeanne asked. Noé wondered that himself. He’d never given his own transformation much thought; he’d been content to know he was a vampire and leave it at that but now…

“Quite a few, yes. But magi can be many things. They’re the broadest category because all it really requires is some talent in the arcane arts. Some of them are vampires, some are demons, and some were once human. It just depends.”

“Shouldn’t we take care around them as well, then?” Noé sighed in frustration. It was disconcerting to learn that he would surely count as a ‘magus’ among the ranks of Hell. He wasn’t supposed to count as anything among them. He was just Noé. Wasn’t he?

“Of course you should. I just said there’s nothing good down there. But the magi are … academic types. Some of them will ignore you if they’re preoccupied with whatever it is they enjoy doing. The Hell Knights will not. They have no choice but to fulfill their duty, even if that duty is corrupt.”

“That’s horrible,” Jeanne said. She bit her lip, clearly agitated at what she had learned. “It’s possible then. The Royal Guard failed their duty and now they must fulfill whatever is left to them. Oh, what of Captain Lachdanan? Surely he wouldn’t have fallen to something like that…”

“We’ll do what we can, Jeanne,” Noé reassured. Vanitas seemed unimpressed. Noé glared at him. He could at least pretend to care about the suffering of others. At his stern look, Vanitas turned away, almost apologetically.

“What else can you tell us?” Jeanne said, visibly collecting herself.

“While the route may seem winding it’s impossible to get lost getting there. Getting out is far more difficult. I suppose Diablo wants to make it easy to lure people to his lair. Why make it difficult after all?” Vanitas said bitterly. “People like you are easy to corrupt.”

“We’ll see,” Noé interjected before Jeanne could say something far more piercing. “At any rate, this has helped a lot. At least now we have some idea of what we’ll be facing.” Jeanne nodded stiffly in agreement. He had wished for there to be some secret to entering Hell but it sounded as though it wasn’t meant to be. It would be a difficult journey with a singular route. He couldn't say he was looking forward to it and he didn't miss the way Vanitas kept glancing at him as though he wanted to say something more but couldn't quite bring himself to.

* * *

 

 The rest of the day passed in a haze and Noé soon found himself lying awake that night in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling as if it might give him the answer to all the questions running wild in his mind.

His teacher hadn’t told him much of Hell or anything, really. Despite how much he had drilled the Sin War into his head he’d never bothered to explain his own origins. Had his teacher actively tortured anyone down in those pits? Had he been a “mere academic” like the magi Vanitas spoke of? None of it sounded right. His teacher could be unforgiving but he was rarely outright cruel. He held disdain for humans but he ultimately preached they should be saved. He frequently condemned the High Heavens, claiming they knew little of what they preached, but he also said that Hell had been and would always be a lost cause. He never made it sound like he missed the place of his origins and wasn’t that strange? Why hadn’t Noé wondered about that more often?

A sudden creaking sound from the hallway had Noé bolting upright. There was a soft knock at the door. Hesitantly, Noé got up and opened it, unsure of what he would see.

It was Vanitas.

Noé had thought he’d left already. He had bid them farewell after their talk and Noé had accepted he likely wouldn’t see him again. It had left him feeling weary, melancholy, but he'd ultimately understood. Vanitas had his own journey to make and Noé had no right to interfere with it. He'd already given them as much help as could be expected of one who had only recently escaped imprisonment. And yet, for some reason, he was still here.

They stared at each other for a moment, Noé in confusion and Vanitas with an indecipherable expression once again.

“You're a strange one; you know naught what lays in store for you. It will not go well for you down there,” Vanitas finally said. His expression didn’t change at all and Noé had to actively stamp out his desire to slam the door shut in alarm. There was an emptiness radiating off of him instead of the person he was. It was like he was looking at some kind of ... shadow.

“What do you mean?” Noé managed.

“You desire to storm Hell itself but even a victory would have a cost.” His eye twitched minutely; it was only the bright moonlight streaming through the window that allowed him to notice. There was something wrong about his voice, too. The inflection was off.

“But we can win,” Noé said tentatively. Vanitas seized suddenly before his eyes widened and he looked around wildly.

“What am I doing here?”

“You were talking to me about Hell,” Noé said softly. “You said we could win.”

Vanitas’s hands trembled slightly and his lips were drained of color. “Right, well, good luck with that. I need to be on my way.”

“Of course,” Noé said. Vanitas all but fled down the hallway. What had gotten into him? What was he even still doing here?

Bewildered, Noé closed the door but he couldn't bring himself to go back to bed. He stood there, hand still clasped on the doorknob, indecision warring within him. Should he go after him? No, surely not. Vanitas wanted to leave Tristram and Noé was needed here with Jeanne.

He found he couldn’t lie back down, though. Perhaps if Vanitas hadn’t gone too far away he could catch up and simply make sure he was all right. That wouldn’t hurt, surely? Heaving a sigh of defeat he braced himself and opened the door.

It turned out Vanitas hadn’t even left the building. He was sitting at the bottom stair, his shoulders hunched over in such a way that it couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

“Vanitas?”

“Leave me alone,” he said quietly but there wasn’t any real force behind it.

Noé paused regardless and studied him for a moment. He seemed well enough. Perhaps a little frayed around the edges but Noé couldn’t say he fared any better. Vanitas looked over his shoulder and let out an annoyed huff. “Fine. Just get over here.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he pointed out though he took the seat offered all the same.

“I could tell you wanted to protest. You have an honest face. You should work on that.”

“I don’t think it’s such a bad thing.”

“It is once you find it being used against you,” Vanitas said darkly. “There is nothing more damning than losing control of yourself. The sooner you learn that the better off you’ll be. Why you’re staying in this village…” He turned away so his face was hidden in shadow.

“Speaking of, weren’t you leaving soon?” Noé questioned.

“Do you want me to?” he shot back.

“No, I don’t want that.”

Vanitas let out a frustrated sigh, mussing his hair in obvious distress. “It shouldn’t matter what you want. Do you have any idea how hard I’ve fought just to be free? And here you are trying to get me to stay—”

“I’m not trying to make you do anything,” Noé said softly.

“That’s even worse!” Vanitas grit out. “You have to want something. Everyone does.”

“You’ve spent all your time with demons," Noé said, steadfastly ignoring how it hurt to know he counted among them. "Things are different here.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“I know you do but you’re still here.”

“I’m still here,” Vanitas said hollowly. “I’m not sure I can leave.”

“Is it because of that book?” Noé said hesitantly. Vanitas brushed his hand across the cover, almost reverently before slamming his fist against it.

“Yes, it’s because of this book. Something went wrong or I misunderstood something and … I’m not as free as I thought.”

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know, I—I didn’t anticipate this, any of it. I didn’t think I would meet someone like you or Jeanne, I didn’t think there’d be any doubt of me leaving this hellhole and now…” He took in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of running. I’ve been doing this for so long…”

Noé saw when his shoulders began to shake and carefully, very carefully, wrapped an arm about him. He’d half expected Vanitas to withdraw but instead he gripped him tightly, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. He wasn’t crying exactly, Noé suspected he was too proud to, but he was close and Noé felt a great deal of compassion for him. He didn’t know what Vanitas had misunderstood or what, exactly, had gone wrong but he knew what it was like to feel cursed in this world. He had often wished he were anything other than a vampire. He supposed Vanitas wished for a different fate as well.

They stayed like that for a time, Noé wasn’t sure how long, but eventually Vanitas pulled away. He looked embarrassed but he met Noé’s eyes all the same.

“I don’t think I can escape this fate but I don’t want to be on the run anymore." He took a deep, steadying breath before saying firmly, "I’ll come with you.”

“You will?” Now that was a shock. Out of all the things Noé had considered happening this night that had been the last.

“I may as well. Maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t just leave the world to one of the Prime Evils.”

Noé stared at him in shock, seeing the resolution in him, the strength. It was thrilling to hear, far more than Noé had anticipated. He wanted to embrace him all over again but he knew that would undoubtedly be pushing things.

“Then we will all go down again tomorrow. Be ready.”

Vanitas nodded and stood uncertainly looking suddenly lost and frail. Noé rose with him and realized he didn't know what they were supposed to do now.

“I don’t suppose I could bunk with you tonight?" Vanitas finally said, looking a touch embarrassed. "I didn’t actually get a room.”

Noé shrugged and led them back down the hall and held the door open for him. It occurred to him this was a somewhat unusual setup though not completely unheard of; people often shared a bed, especially in the colder months. Beds were expensive after all. Still, it was usually only done with family members or those who were good friends. Vanitas was still an unknown in so many ways and yet he couldn't help but trust him.

They settled awkwardly under the covers together. Noé took a small sip of his elixir and grasped at his pillow, snuggling close to it as he turned on his side. Vanitas lied stiffly on his back, his hands clasped on his chest. Noé had his eyes closed but he could feel Vanitas's gaze on him. Strangely, it didn't bother him at all.

Still, he wondered what had possessed Vanitas to knock on his door in the first place. He seemed like himself now but he had been decidedly strange before. It was like there had been someone else looking out from his eyes and whoever it was had felt ... cold.

Perhaps Vanitas had only been seeking a reason to stay. Noé hoped that was all it was. 

* * *

 

 He didn’t dream at all that night. Adria's elixir had certainly managed that and he thought he'd remembered a few more snippets of his dream including corridors and the blue of Vanitas's eyes but nothing about his conversation with Teacher just yet.

They left for the cathedral immediately after purchasing a few healing potions from Pepin and some mana potions for Noé from Adria. He had finally run out after their excursion and they couldn’t risk him being unable to fight.

After that they got some leather armor fitted for Vanitas, picked up his clothes from Brynhild (Noé was pleased to see they were a striking combination of blue and grey just like he'd hoped), got him equipped with a bow and quiver of arrows, and made sure his twin daggers were sharpened. He looked every inch a warrior and Noé took a moment to appreciate the change he’d undergone. A mere day earlier he’d been an ex-prisoner with filthy clothing and now he was made anew.

Jeanne displayed her new sword, holding it aloft for them to see. It shone brightly and Noé thought it fit her perfectly: elegant, regal, and powerful.

When they approached the town portal Vanitas drew in a surprised breath. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous to leave lying around?”

“It doesn’t allow demons through,” Jeanne said quickly.

“Doesn’t it, though?” he said bemusedly with a quick glance at Noé. “Perhaps they are too foolish to use it.”

“Noé placed some protective charms on it and it's linked to the Horadrim's own magical landmarks. It’s fine.”

“If you say so. I’ll admit I don’t really want to climb down all those stairs anyway. Let’s have at it then.”

They quickly returned to where they’d been through the town portal and descended swiftly to a new area. Noé knew it immediately by how all remnants of the Cathedral disappeared. This was surely the crypt.

Vanitas glanced left and right, looking much like a man resigned for the gallows.

“The smell of death surrounds us,” Jeanne said grimly.

“We’re in the catacombs,” Vanitas said wearily. “You can tell by the, well, everything.”

Noé supposed that summed it up nicely. He’d had no idea so many were buried beneath the Cathedral. It seemed unwise now that they were down there having to fight through swarms of the undead. Perhaps, Noé mused, this was why some people cremated the dead.

The majority of the environment was cold, hard stone but there were several areas where it had been worn away leaving nothing but soft earth beneath them. The smell of dirt mixed in with the stale scent of death and Noé was starting to think he should have brought a handkerchief to block out some of the stench.

All in all, the general layout of the catacombs wasn’t wildly different from the labyrinth above save that everything managed to be, somehow, more dismal than it had been already.

As they explored the new area, swiftly realizing the monsters down here were far worse than those above, they stumbled upon an open area, somewhat darker than the areas before.

In the center was some kind of pedestal with something large and round upon it.

“Would you say that looks like a rock?” Jeanne said from where they were crouched around a corner. Vanitas was analyzing the room, muttering the number of demons he saw lurking in the corner. The number kept rising.

“I would say so,” Noé replied reluctantly.

“Why do the two of you care about this rock so much?” Vanitas hissed. “What does it matter? Do you see what’s guarding that thing? There are creatures made of magma running around not to mention those goatmen. It’s not worth it.”

“It might be worth it,” Jeanne said.

“Oh, yes, let’s die for a rock that _might_ be worth it.”

“What are our odds?” Noé butted in. He wasn’t sure he could handle the two of them arguing about it much longer. In fact, they’d done little else aside from bickering the entire way down. Noé had managed to lose track of what, exactly, they were disagreeing about.

“With the three of us we should be able to clear it if you could apply that shield for us.”

Fortuitously, Noé had stumbled across a book on the way down with information on a spell called Mana Shield. It seemed to redirect attacks that would have done physical damage to spiritual instead. It had its uses though Noé found it still hurt, just in a place he couldn’t locate. Jeanne and Vanitas didn’t seem as bothered by it, so he hesitantly agreed to cast it.

“Shall we then?”

“I suppose we could make our way through if we’re swift and stick to the shadows,” Vanitas agreed reluctantly.

With that out of the way they carefully maneuvered their way through the unusually open space. Vanitas slashed the throat of several demons before they even noticed they were there. Their luck didn’t hold for long though; one of the goatmen finally noticed them and let out a guttural cry before unleashing an arrow in their direction. Naturally, that brought every other demon in the vicinity down on them and Noé was suddenly very glad he’d cast the spell in advance even if it did mean he had to down more mana potions than was typical for him.

Now that they could no longer hide in the shadows Vanitas revealed he was far more fierce a fighter than Noé would have guessed. Jeanne took care of anything that got too close while Vanitas picked enemies with surprising precision with his bow. Any that got close enough were felled by one of his daggers. Noé offered the occasional healing spell and drew a ring of fire around them as further protection. Only a few of the demons were foolish enough to attempt crossing it. Those who did swiftly learned they were no ordinary flames; they purified anything that touched them.

“I think they’re finished,” Vanitas coughed out. He still looked a bit ill from before but surely the healing potion would have taken care of it. Noé looked at him warily. He hadn’t said anything about being ill.

“Good. Are you all right?” Jeanne asked. Vanitas waved her away in dismissal, saying they should simply retrieve the rock and get back to Tristram before their very presence “draws more of the blasted things.”

When Noé picked up the stone he blinked in surprise. It wasn't as heavy as it looked and it felt cool to the touch, unusually so; Noé wondered if perhaps it really did come from the heavens. When he stretched his senses out to analyze it better he could feel the thrum of magic running through it. No, it certainly wasn’t an ordinary rock.

Vanitas plucked it from his hands imperiously, turning it this way and that before Noé could get a good idea of what the rock might actually do. Noé bit back an irritated retort. Jeanne just looked resigned.

“This is it?” He didn’t sound mocking though. Rather, his tone was subdued as if there was something about it he couldn’t comprehend.

“What do you think?” Jeanne said.

“It feels … nice. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“It’s larger than I thought it would be,” Jeanne admitted. “I hope Griswold can make something useful with it. Despite it's size, this certainly won’t forge a weapon of any kind.”

“Maybe not,” Noé said, “but I could sense magic in it. I think we should be able to do something with it.”

“You can feel the magic?” Vanitas asked, handing the rock to Jeanne who looked at it blankly.

“Of course; I’ve been trained to do so.”

Vanitas hummed thoughtfully, resting his hand against his chin. “Can you sense magic in any object?”

“Most anything. I could tell your book was magical and held a consciousness within it.”

“You knew that and still kept me around. You’re an odd fellow.” He said it with a small, idle grin.

“So you’ve said.” Noé smiled in return. Jeanne carried the rock carefully.

“I can’t feel anything from it,” she admitted, “but I trust your abilities. Come, let’s get it to Griswold. If nothing else, we’ll learn something of it.”

When they drew the portal Vanitas hesitated. “I think, perhaps, I will stay here.”

“What? But you hate it here,” Noé cried.

“Yes, all the more reason not to tempt myself with something better, wouldn’t you say? Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ve survived down here before.”

Noé reluctantly agreed at Jeanne’s prodding and Vanitas’s firm insistence. He turned back to look at him when they stepped through the portal and, for a split second, thought he saw that same emptiness he'd seen the night before. His stomach churned uncomfortably but he steeled his nerves to focus on the task at hand.

Griswold was thrilled when he saw the rock.

“This is incredible! Oh, I’ll forge the finest rings with this rock here, just you wait and see!”

He managed to make three rings out of it. They were pretty enough, nothing special, but when Noé placed it on his finger he could tell his senses had been enhanced, expanded. He could feel the subtlest change in the wind and hear every blade of grass move.

“This is amazing,” Noé said, looking up to see how Jeanne was handling it. She looked baffled.

“Er, is it not to your liking?” Griswold said hesitantly.

Jeanne shook her head hastily. “Oh, no, I think this will be quite useful. It’s just not at all something I’m used to. Everything is so much louder!”

“I’ve decided to call them the empyrean bands. I hope they’ll serve you well.”

“I’m certain they will. Thank you, Griswold.” Noé smiled in thanks. Jeanne was still adjusting to the effects and as such was distracted but Griswold managed a slight grin in return seeming to understand no offense was meant.

“Come on. I’d like us to get back to Vanitas as soon as possible,” he said, remembering that odd expression.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Noé,” she said reassuringly. “You’re a good friend.”

Noé simply shrugged and rushed them back to the portal. He felt uneasy and he wanted to make sure nothing was actually amiss. When they returned Jeanne gave Vanitas one of the rings. “All three have the same effect. I think this one will fit you,” she said. Thankfully, Vanitas seemed as much like himself as ever and he studied the ring with marked interest. Noé felt some of his concern ease.

When Vanitas placed it on his finger he winced slightly. “Ah, that’s … quite an effect.”

“What are you talking about?” Jeanne said.

With a sinking feeling Noé thought he might know. “It’s the book, isn’t it? You can hear it better now.”

“Yes,” Vanitas grit out. “Her voice is much … clearer now.” He hastily removed it and placed it in his pocket instead. “Unfortunately, I don’t think the benefits will outweigh the cons.”

“Are you sure you can’t just destroy the book?” Jeanne sighed in irritation.

“If only,” Vanitas muttered. “To do so would certainly destroy her but I’m not sure what it would do to me in the process. Nothing good, I imagine. Let’s just continue. It won’t interfere with my usefulness if that’s what’s bothering you.”

“It’s not just that,” Jeanne said angrily. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I would prefer you not get injured as well, Vanitas,” Noé said quietly. “I can’t heal everything down here, you know.”

“I know that perfectly well. I just … don’t want to think about it anymore. Please.”

“We don’t have that kind of luxury and you know it,” Jeanne groaned.

“You don’t have the luxury of choice whatsoever,” Vanitas snapped. “I am leading you down here, aren’t I? What more do you want?”

Noé winced at the raised tones. He couldn’t find it in himself to agree or disagree with either of them.

“I want to know I’m not bringing a liability with me!”

“Enough, both of you,” Noé interjected. “Vanitas, are you sure you can continue?”

“Yes, I should be fine,” he said, his shoulders lined with tension. “I took it off, so there won’t be a problem.”

“Jeanne, are you willing to let him lead us?”

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “For now.”

“Then can we go? The legions of Hell aren’t about to remove themselves.”

As they wandered through the catacombs Noé took a moment to contemplate him once more. Vanitas seemed well enough if he ignored his gaunt features and stilted movements but there was no getting around his consistently strange behavior. Furthermore, last night had been odd. His voice last night had been pitched differently, almost womanly. It had a dignified ring to it that Vanitas lacked for himself. It had felt wholly unnatural and that worried him more than anything else.

Stranger still was his reluctance to follow them back to Tristram. He’d been so eager to never return only a short time ago but now he was offering to wait while they handled things above ground.

Before he could think on it much more they were approaching a bend in the corridor that led to a book on a stand of all things. It appeared to be a normal enough book, which made it all the stranger.

“Is that what I think it is?” Jeanne said hesitantly.

“Demons enjoy literature,” Vanitas offered. Noé couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

They all walked toward it carefully and Noé took a moment to appreciate the absurdity of the situation. They were acting as though it might start shooting fireballs at them at any moment. Noé’s brow scrunched. Could it do that?

They huddled around it, none of them wanting to be the first to test it out. Finally, Noé lifted a hand to do so. He was the sorcerer; books were supposed to be _his_ thing.

It felt like smooth leather but he couldn’t sense anything emanating from it. Feeling more confident he began to page through it. Jeanne and Vanitas leaned over him curiously.

“I don’t remember seeing this on the way up,” Vanitas murmured.

“I can’t make out the majority of it,” Noé sighed. “It’s like it’s written in gibberish.”

“I’ve heard some demons like to enchant their books so only they can read them,” Vanitas offered.

“If that’s the case it’s no good to us,” Jeanne frowned.

“Wait, here’s something:

_"...and so, locked beyond the gateway of blood, and past the hall of fires, Valor awaits for the hero of light to awaken..."_

“That … sounds like nonsense,” Vanitas chuckled. “A hero of light? Valor?”

“Why is that legible while the rest isn’t?” Jeanne said quietly as if to herself.

“I don’t know,” Noé said in frustration. “But that’s all I can make of it. Does it mean anything to either of you?” Something about it was familiar but Noé couldn’t remember where he’d heard it.

“Valor was the name of a suit of armor, if I recall correctly,” Jeanne said. “It belonged to the great warrior Arkaine. He helped seal Diablo away all those years ago.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Vanitas said.

“I imagine not. Why would demons speak of their own defeat when they could plot a way to take over Sanctuary instead?”

“That’s … fair,” Vanitas admitted.

“I think this is saying Valor is somewhere around here,” Noé said. “If so, it could be quite useful, especially for you, Jeanne.” Noé didn’t really want to wear a heavy suit of armor if he could avoid it. He much preferred being able to get out of danger swiftly rather than take a pummeling head on.

“Indeed! I have long waited for a hero to come to claim it,” an unknown voice announced from behind them.

All three of them jumped in surprise. Jeanne recovered the quickest and lunged at the figure only to go through it.

“What on earth,” she said in surprise. Noé gripped his staff tighter for he knew what it was they were looking at.

The figure’s features were difficult to make out; it was like looking at someone through a fog except there was no fog to be found. He was clearly in some kind of armor either way.

“You’re a ghost,” he said.

“Sadly, yes,” the spirit replied congenially enough, “and you lot hope to vanquish the evil residing in this place. A noble cause!”

“You’re not about to start attacking us?” Jeanne said warily, her sword still pointed at him, ready to make another attempt at charging should the need arise.

“Heavens, no. What purpose would that serve? I am completely immaterial. I couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to.”

That was patently untrue but Noé decided not to say anything to the contrary. If he wasn’t going to attack then so be it.

“What is it you want then?” Noé said. He glanced at Vanitas who had been surprisingly quiet ever since the spirit had appeared. He stared at the thing but his features were indecipherable. It was as though he were barely aware of what was happening. Unease tugged at Noé but he couldn’t afford take his attention off their guest.

“Who are you?” Jeanne demanded.

“I am Arkaine,” Noé didn’t miss Jeanne’s gasp of shock, “and I wish to aid you. Not far from here you’ll find several pedestals of blood. If you could but put the bloodstones upon them you will find my armor. I think it will aid you.”

“Bloodstones?” Jeanne said,  suspicious once more. “That sounds like dark magic.”

“It is,” Arkaine admitted. “It was not I who sealed away my armor but the work of the demons here. They sealed it with my own blood and cursed me to reside here. If there were a purer way of freeing it I would offer it up but I know of no other way to open the passageway.”

“What will happen to you?” Vanitas finally spoke up. “If we do what you ask and retrieve the armor, what do you get out of it? Nothing is ever without a cost.”

Arkaine tilted his head ever so slightly, his figure phasing out ever so slightly as he did so. “No, sadly that is the truth. As you might expect, you will have to fight the demons that guard it. Goatmen and horned beasts. As for I, I will be released from this trap where I can do nothing. I am bound to the armor and I would lend you what strength I have left if you take it up until our mission is complete. I failed the first time, long ago. If I could rectify that wrong I would see it done.”

“You long for freedom,” Vanitas said wearily. “I’m not sure there is such a thing. There is no guarantee that defeating Diablo will free your soul. I hope you’re prepared for that.”

“I am prepared for anything.”

“Then we will do this task,” Jeanne announced. “Let us find this armor.”

She and Arkaine immediately moved on toward the first pedestal but Noé hung back for a moment to stay with Vanitas who looked terribly lost.

“Is everything all right?” Noé rested an arm on his shoulder. Vanitas looked at it bemusedly for a moment but didn’t push him away.

“I’m not sure. I think he’s trustworthy, regardless of whether he’s the real Arkaine or not. I just … don’t know if we’re really helping him by doing this.”

“Do you want to help him?” Vanitas hadn’t spoken much of what he hoped to accomplish in the labyrinth, simply that he’d decided to come with them.

“I want this all to end,” Vanitas said wearily, finally gripping Noé’s hand with one of his own. He squeezed it gently. “I’m tired, I think.”

“We’ve been down here awhile. Would you like to return to Tristram for a bit?”

“No, no I can’t go back there either. Just … stay close, would you?”

“Of course I will,” Noé said uncertainly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Vanitas gave him a wry grin. “Oh, you’ll be my shield, will you?”

“I think Jeanne would do a better job of that but I will heal your wounds if you insist on flinging yourself into danger.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Vanitas gave his hand a final pat before following after Jeanne who had called after them when she’d realized they hadn’t actually come with. “Come along, Noé. We have a spirit to release.” He sauntered off as if he’d never voiced a single insecurity in his life and they were just taking another stroll down the river.

Vanitas’s mood swings were a force to be reckoned with, Noé was quickly realizing but there could be no doubt. He was hiding something and he refused to say what it was and Noé had no idea what it could be. He tried to convince himself that whatever it was wouldn’t affect their mission.

While the swarms of demons protecting Arkaine’s armor were frustrating to deal with they ultimately made quick work of the matter. The horned beasts were huge and bulky and could go at swift speeds but they tired easily and then it was a simple matter of striking them down.

Noé kept to his word and stayed near Vanitas as they fought. It was a simple matter as they were both using long-ranged weapons.

One of the beasts managed to ram into Vanitas before he could petrify it and Vanitas wasn’t able to dodge in time. Thankfully, Noé had cast a shield over all of them beforehand but that didn’t prevent Vanitas from flying through the air and slamming into the wall. He let out a choked off cry and Noé swiftly took care of the large, rhinoceros-like creature by burning it to cinders.

“Vanitas!” He ran over and crouched beside him. He was still choking, clearly having had the wind knocked out of him, but as Noé reached out with his magic to see if he was injured he found he was fine.

He exhaled in relief. “You may not feel like it, but you’ll be up and about in a moment or two.” Vanitas glared at him as he let out another wheeze.

“Everything all right over there?” Jeanne called out. Arkaine hovered over her shoulder managing to look awkward. Noé hadn’t thought a suit of armor could manage such a feat but somehow Arkaine was.

“I’m fine,” Vanitas growled as he pushed Noé’s extended hand away, forcing himself upright. “I was just … let’s just go.” Jeanne shrugged and glanced at Noé questioningly. He nodded in return. Her worries satisfied they continued to the final pedestal. A part of the corridor opened before them and within was a dusty suit of armor, lavish in its design. Arkaine let out an otherworldly sigh as he began to fade away.

“Thank you, my friends. Go now and cleanse this place of evil.” With that he disappeared, possibly gone from the world.

Jeanne took a tentative step toward the armor and began dusting it off. “May the spirit of Arkaine protect us,” she said softly. “This is a fine piece.”

“You should use it, Jeanne. Neither Vanitas nor myself will have any use for it.”

She glanced up at him, clearly touched. “Thank you. I’ll need Griswold to clean it up some but then I will wear it in honor of Arkaine and for the sake of our quest.”

Noé crouched beside her and clasped her hand. “We can do this, Jeanne. A hero of the past rose up just so that we might have this. We will not fail.”

“Yes.” Her eyes shone fiercely. “Let us return to Griswold so that this armor will be ready for battle. Are you coming this time, Vanitas?”

He hesitated before shaking his head. “No, this is a safe section of the catacombs for now. I will await your return.”

“Perhaps I should stay as well then,” Noé said. “I don’t need anything in town for now. I’m still fully stocked on potions.”

Jeanne studied them both thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s for the best. This way Vanitas won’t have to worry about demons coming through the portal either. I will be swift.”

Vanitas stared after her as the room was suddenly lit up with blue light and her figure disappeared through the portal.

“She is quite lovely, isn’t she?” Vanitas said abruptly after she’d left, rubbing his chin, eyes fixed upon Noé shrewdly. Noé’s lips twitched slightly.

“I thought so, too. Is she the kind of person you like?” Noé wouldn’t blame him. She was fierce and kind in measure although the two had done little else aside from arguing.

Vanitas rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t think so. It would be interesting if she were.”

It made absolutely no sense but Noé nodded anyway. Was this something he was supposed to ask about? Should he insist he and Jeanne would make a good pair? He wasn’t sure he was convinced of that if he was honest but he didn’t want to put a damper on Vanitas’s hopes either. He seemed to have so few.

“You’re getting the wrong impression entirely, aren’t you?” Vanitas said, amusement thick in his voice.

“I was just thinking if you want to be with Jeanne you might try … talking with her more.”

“So, you think I should talk to whomever I’m interested in?”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do…?” Noé said, at a loss.

Vanitas let out a small huff of laughter. “I suppose I’ll be fine then.” He sat down and leaned against the wall. “And what of you, my dear Noé? Do you fancy our resident warrior?”

“I don’t think she feels that way about me.”

“That wasn’t really the question.”

Noé thought about it for a moment. It would make sense to like Jeanne that way. She was incredible but it was more…

“I think I simply admire her.”

“Admiration… Yes, I can see that.”

Noé had never really thought about love before. It had simply never come up and he'd never felt a need to pursue it; he knew everyone in the village and none of them had ever enticed him in such a way. He supposed he loved his teacher and his friends as well but Noé didn’t interact with people much overall. It was far too dangerous. If they learned of what he was they would fear him and rightly so. He knew he would eventually have to leave Tristram for good. After awhile they would begin to notice his prolonged life, that he never aged, and he couldn’t give them a satisfactory answer for why he was different. Certainly not one that wouldn’t have them up in arms.

“What’s bothering you now?” Vanitas sighed. He was resting his chin on his knees, looking up at Noé expectantly. It made him look so much younger than he really was. Noé shook his head slowly.

“I was just … thinking about the townspeople.”

“Odd thing to be thinking about down here.”

“I worry for them,” Noé said defensively.

“I worry for you. Maybe you should do the same.”

Noé’s face flushed and he took to studying the room they were in as if he hadn’t already taken it all in before. It was just more stone. That was all the catacombs seemed to be: endless stone corridors pressing against them. Still, it was easier to do that than wonder at the uncomfortable churning of his stomach.

“I’ll be fine,” Noé muttered. He didn’t miss the mischievous grin Vanitas threw his way.

“Really now? Heading into the bowels of Hell itself but you’ll be fine? Is it because you know Jeanne will protect you?”

“You’re making fun of me now,” Noé said.

“It’s an easy thing to do. Well, I suspect Jeanne really would protect you, though.”

“Of course she would,” Noé muttered, “I would do the same. It’s why we’re going as a group to begin with.”

“Hmm, I’ll do my best to protect you as well then,” Vanitas said, almost sadly.

“Why are you asking so much about Jeanne anyway?” It was easier than asking what Vanitas was trying to get at and if it involved Noé or not.

Vanitas raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. “Truly?”

Before Noé could let out a retort Jeanne herself reappeared through the portal. It disappeared immediately behind her. She was wearing Arkaine’s armor and she looked, well, she looked absolutely dashing if Noé said so himself.

“It’s amazing!” he cried.

She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Do you really think so? I feel so unworthy of wearing such a thing. Arkaine was a legendary warrior…”

“You’ll be legendary yourself soon enough, I know it.”

Jeanne smiled broadly. Vanitas looked from one to the other. “You’re … quite certain there’s nothing going on here?”

He was met by twin looks of confusion. Vanitas slowly stood up and shook his head in disbelief. “Both of you are just … whatever. I’m not about to encourage it.” He stomped off down the corridor, Jeanne and Noé following behind.

“Whatever is bothering him?” Jeanne whispered.

“I have no idea. He was wondering if I loved you.”

Jeanne let out a squeak, her face turning bright red. “O-oh, I don’t have time for that. I’m sorry, Noé, I don’t think I can return those feelings I just—”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Noé said laughingly. “I was telling him I admire you. I wasn’t trying to make a come on.” Up ahead Noé could see Vanitas was looking more and more hunched over as if he had given up on them entirely.

“Oh, thank you.  Um, not that I would object, necessarily. You’re a wonderful man, Noé, I’m just… Never mind. Why was he asking anyway?”

Noé shrugged. He was as mystified as Jeanne in that regard.

“Wait, he doesn’t want to, w-with me…?” Jeanne looked scandalized, much more so than at the thought of Noé pursuing her.

“Er, no, I don’t think it was that either.”

“Thank the light,” Jeanne said with a sigh of relief.

Vanitas twirled around, his face dark with fury. “And what, exactly, would be wrong with me?”

“You’re impossible to talk to is what’s wrong. You’re rude, arrogant, and stubborn!” Jeanne said with annoyance.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be having this discussion right now…” Noé tried.

“Oh, and you’re not sanctimonious and hardheaded?” Vanitas retorted.

“I think you’re both lovely people!” Noé shouted. They both turned toward him, Vanitas’s face still red with anger and Jeanne’s looking hesitantly charmed.

“Come on, it’s just this place getting to us," Noé continued. "We need to move on.”

“Of course. You’re right,” Jeanne agreed.

“Whatever,” Vanitas growled.

Noé wanted to run up and confront him and comfort him in turn but he was forced to admit that, once again, he didn’t really understand what was wrong.

Jeanne patted him on the shoulder consolingly. “It will be all right. He just needs some time to cool down.”

“But why was he upset in the first place?”

“Well…” Jeanne’s face scrunched up. “I don’t really get it either. But I’m sure he’ll tell you eventually. The two of you are becoming fast friends after all.”

Noé hoped that was the case. He wasn’t sure what to label his nebulous feelings toward him just yet but friendship would certainly be welcome.

They wandered around in silence for some time before they reached a staircase leading them further down. Even then none of them said anything, having resigned themselves to the fact that the only way to get further in the catacombs was to continue their endless descent. Noé hoped they were getting close to whatever their final destination would be. Vanitas hadn’t spoken much of what Hell was like, often acted as though he’d never been there, but Noé knew it would be a force to be reckoned with, whatever it was.

The staircase took them to another section of the catacombs. Noé couldn’t say he was surprised. Vanitas said they were nearing the end however and Noé grit his teeth and forced his feet to move forward.

It wasn’t long before they discovered yet another book. This time there was no hesitation. Vanitas tested it for traps, said it was fine, and Noé opened it.

This one wasn’t as difficult to read and he found a relevant piece of information right away:

_"Beyond the hall of heroes lies the Chamber of Bone. Eternal death awaits any who would seek to steal the treasures secured within this room. So speaks the Lord of Terror, and so it is written."_

“More ominous texts,” Jeanne sighed. “Why are these just lying about anyway? What’s the point?”

“This is referencing Diablo’s treasure vault. We should leave it alone,” Vanitas said.

“Treasure vault?” Noé exclaimed, perking up.

“Don’t look so intrigued, Noé,” Vanitas said dryly. “What is it with you sorcerers and your constant need to explore anything and everything? It’s like you want something to kill you.”

“What would we find there?” Jeanne said with curiosity evident in her tone.

Vanitas threw his arms up in defeat. “You both have a death wish! That is the only explanation for this. We don’t _need_ to storm Diablo’s vault. We need to hurry up and get to Hell to _kill_ Diablo. Why are we chasing after every little thing the two of you find vaguely interesting, running errands for _peasants_ , nearly dying at every corner—”

He continued in that vein for a time, clearly having built up quite an argument before finishing off with “—and we’re probably going to go straight for the chamber anyway because the two of you are _magpies.”_

“They have magpies in Hell?” Noé said blankly.

“Argh! Whatever! It’s this way!”

Vanitas stormed off, muttering indecipherable curses that Noé had no doubt were aimed at him and Jeanne before pointing at a large corridor with a room blocked off in the center.

“There? Happy? Shall we go prancing in now?”

“We will be victorious,” Jeanne said confidently. “Stay near Noé, Vanitas.”

“As if I’d move away from him,” he said dourly. Seeming to realize what he’d just said his face turned bright red and he looked away. “Let’s just get this over with.” He notched his bow, clearly resigned to battle.

The Chamber of Bone was aptly named it turned out. If Noé had any doubt of what had happened to the remains of the villagers buried here he knew now. All of their remains had been reanimated to be part of Diablo’s army. He felt sorrow as he blew up several of them with a ball of fire and prayed their souls were released from their prison. If he’d been a necromancer he might have known but that was a branch of magic he had never studied. It had always frightened him a little; there was a thin line between what Diablo did and what necromancers did but the line was there. Noé simply feared he wouldn’t know if he’d crossed it.

Now he thought it may have been useful to at least have learned how to detect whether spirits were residing in the bones or not.

When they finished all that remained was a book.

“Great, another book,” Vanitas said sarcastically, breathing heavily from exertion.

This one was clearly different from the last two books, however. Noé could sense arcane energy emanating from it. Curiosity piqued he opened it.

“It’s a spell book!” he cried.

“That’s wonderful!” Jeanne said warmly. “What’s in it?”

“It’s some manner of protection spell, I think. It’s called ‘Guardian.’ Let me test this out; should only take a moment. Yes, yes, I should be able to learn something like this,” he trailed off, deep in thought.

He just needed to raise his arm, focus his mana into the form of a three-headed dragon and—

He felt a harsh rush of magic leave him and a loud roar filled his ears. It was wild, untamable, and yet it was under his control.

“What is that?” Jeanne cried, leaping back in a defensive posture.

Noé blinked and looked up. Oh, he’d actually managed to summon it.

The three-headed dragons’ eyes glinted malevolently and it occurred to Noé this was probably a darker form of magic than he usually used. He felt strained and exhilarated all at once. He looked back at the book warily only to discover all the text had vanished. He supposed its information was locked away in his mind now.

“Er, thank you, Guardian,” Noé said. “I apologize; there is nothing to defend against at the moment. You may … return?”

With a low rumble the beast slid back into the ground, returning to whatever void it had been summoned from.

“That should be useful,” Noé muttered.

“Interesting,” Vanitas said thoughtfully. “It listened to you without hesitation. I would expect a hellbeast to have a larger issue with a mortal human than this one showed.” He glanced at Noé thoughtfully, an odd glint to his eye. Noé steadfastly ignored him, afraid to guess at what he was getting at.

“It … you summoned that?” Jeanne exclaimed.

Noé tried to focus. Part of his attention was still with that beast as if part of him had gone with it. He shook himself. He would figure it out later.

“Yes, it seems I can now. I’ll be careful with it.”

“Is it wise to use that? It’s Diablo’s own magic, surely. Why else would he keep it here?”

It was a valid point and Noé wished that they’d listened to Vanitas in the first place. He wasn’t sure what to make of this new magic but the shadows seemed longer and the rumble of the earth was louder.

“I’m sure Noé can control it,” Vanitas interjected. “He’s unique in that way.”

“I suppose so,” Jeanne admitted. “You’ve always been so pure of heart.”

“Thank you, Lady Jeanne.” As they exited the Chamber of Bone Noé wondered if that was really true. Could a vampire have a pure heart? Or could he use this dark magic because he _was_ a vampire, a denizen of Hell itself?

Vanitas grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him close.

“Relax,” he whispered into his ear. Noé could feel his breath, hot against his cheek. “It doesn’t matter why you can use it. Just put it to use, why don’t you? We need to return as soon as possible.”

It was the same strange tone of voice from before, feminine and cold and empty. Noé shuddered violently and looked ahead toward Jeanne. She hadn’t noticed anything.

“What do you mean?” he whispered back.

“I mean—I mean,” Vanitas blinked suddenly and pulled away. He was shaking. “I mean, don’t worry,” he said, his voice strained but otherwise familiar once more. “Just listen to Jeanne.”

“Vanitas—”

He ran to catch up with her without sparing Noé another look. He gripped his staff tightly, tension running through him. Something was very wrong. He only hoped he could figure out what it was before it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes are having a tough time of it but they're making progress! Despite the length of this chapter I feel as though more could have been added... At any rate, we did cover a lot of ground here, so I don't know how long the next will be. I suppose we'll find out! ^^
> 
> \--  
> Chapter edited July 20, 2019.


	3. Caves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes descend further down until they reach Hell itself. Dark revelations regarding Vanitas and Jeanne have Noé swiftly losing hope but even amidst this chaos there is some good to be found.

“We’re nearly at the end of the catacombs,” Vanitas said wearily. “Yay.”

“No one made you come with, you know,” Jeanne said crossly.

They were camped in a corner of the crypt in what they were all hoping was a relatively safe section. They could have gone back up to Tristram but the thought of having to lug everything through the portal and pay for a room at the inn was too exhausting to contemplate. Instead, Noé merely got a magical fire going for them so they wouldn’t be _too_ cold and handed out some rations to munch on. It wasn’t anything amazing, some bread and salted fish, but it got the job done. Jeanne was sharpening her sword, looking more relaxed than she had in some time, and Noé was taking an opportunity to actually lie down. Even if it was cold stone it still felt heavenly in that moment.

He’d spent the majority of the rest of their walk worrying about Vanitas. He was now steadfastly trying not to think about anything at all. He gazed into the fire allowing himself to become transfixed by its flickering depths. The shadows danced around them and yet it was comforting in its own way.

“The two of you would be lost without me,” Vanitas grumbled. He bit into some of the salted fish and immediately began to cough. “What is this? This is _food_?”

“Surely it’s not that bad,” Noé sighed, his concentration broken.

“I had better food in Hell.” He ate more of the fish regardless, wincing as he did so.

That seemed incredibly unlikely to Noé but he was comfortable where he was and it didn’t seem a worthy thing to make a fuss about. Briefly, he wondered if his teacher had ever mentioned what he’d dined on there. Probably blood or something like that. Thoroughly put off now Noé turned on his side so the scent of fish wouldn’t reach him so easily.

“We’ve still got plenty of water as well,” Jeanne said, turning toward Noé. “Although I worry it will go bad down here soon.”

“Should’ve brought some mead,” Vanitas said through his chewing.

“I’m not sure we want to get drunk on the job.” Noé had considered it if he was honest for he’d also considered the water spoiling and how it would prove problematic if it occurred. The further down they went the less likely they would be able to make it back to Tristram for supplies. He wondered what they would do if it came to that.

Jeanne was staring at the wall absently, humming softly under her breath, the sound of the whetstone gliding against steel filling the air. Vanitas let out a loud yawn, stretching as he did so before rounding on Jeanne once more. Vanitas had been pestering her off and on for hours now, seeming to want to extract as much information out of her as possible. At the rate the two were going Noé wasn’t going to get any sleep.

“So, this Prince Luca. Why are you so determined to find him?” Vanitas said. _What a silly question,_ Noé thought distantly. _Why wouldn’t she want to find the person she’d been ordered to protect?_

“He was my responsibility but more than that he was a friend.” She glared at Vanitas, daring him to say anything untoward about it. Vanitas merely shrugged.

“I suppose that’s fair. You were also part of the Royal Guard?”

“That’s right.”

“You were worried they might have been cursed to serve Diablo after they failed King Leoric if I remember right. Aren’t you worried about yourself?”

“What do you mean?” she said slowly. She paused in her work, sparing Vanitas an annoyed glance.

“I mean, you essentially failed in your duty as well—”

“Vanitas—” Noé tried to interject, turning back around to face them reluctantly.

“—so shouldn’t you be cursed along with the rest?”

Jeanne gripped her sword tightly, her face taut with anger. No, Noé wasn’t about to get any sleep whatsoever. What had he done to deserve this?

With a great deal of reluctance he forced himself back up. “Vanitas, stop antagonizing her. There’s nothing wrong.”

“If there’s nothing wrong than why be upset?”

“You know why,” Jeanne bit out. “I failed my duty, yes. I have wondered about the curse as well. I don’t know if I have it or not. My duty was not directly tied to King Leoric but his son. Even so,” she said her voice softer, “I may deserve to be cursed for failing him.”

Vanitas clucked his tongue mockingly. “You just might be before things are up.”

“Vanitas, that’s enough,” Noé said sternly. He had the decency to look somewhat ashamed though not nearly enough by Noé’s estimate.

“Why are you saying all this?” Jeanne demanded. “Aren’t you cursed to bear that book? Why hurl accusations at me?”

“Tch, it doesn’t matter. It just seemed pertinent to ensure you weren’t going to turn on us at a given moment.”

“Will you? You’re the one carrying a demon at your side.”

“Hasn’t there been enough talk of demons?” Noé said awkwardly.

“Not much else to talk about. And I have this book perfectly under control.”

Noé didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked toward it or the hesitant way he looked away again. Jeanne seemed to notice as well.

“I hope you’re right,” she said, a touch more sympathy in her voice, “for your own sake as well as ours.”

“Right.”

For a while peace reigned and Noé wondered if things had actually been resolved but just as he was about to finally give in to the sweet allure of sleep Vanitas had to speak up again.

“But you are unusually talented for a warrior. Are you sure that’s just from training?”

Noé let out a groan of defeat. There was no stopping him, was there? He’d just keep poking and prodding until something came of it.

“Of course it’s from training.”

“Not from some set of … preternatural skills?”

“Just what are you getting at?” she demanded.

“I don’t think you are what you say you are.”

“And just what do you think I am?”

Vanitas was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know for sure yet.”

_That’s a lie,_ Noé realized. Why he chose to lie now after upsetting her so much already was beyond him but if he was finally going to quiet down than mores’ the better.

“Well, if you come up with some other accusation I’m sure you’ll let me know. How about letting Noé get some sleep in the meantime?”

“Sleep would be welcome,” he mumbled. Vanitas shot a guilty glance at him before crossing his arms defensively.

“Fine. Whatever.”

With that the sound of Jeanne sharpening the sword filled the air once more and Noé was finally, _finally_ going to get some rest. He’d taken another sip of Adria’s concoction beforehand. He hoped he’d be able to sort out his dreams soon. So far he’d been able to remember his teacher had said something about the book. He hadn’t mentioned it to Vanitas yet; he was hoping to get more details before he started coming up with too many theories.

He felt someone settle beside him and an arm wrapped around his waist.

“Sorry…” Oh, it was Vanitas.

“Should apologize to Jeanne…”

“Yes, you should apologize to Jeanne,” she said with obvious annoyance.

“Mm…” Vanitas didn’t sound all too convinced he should but at least he wasn’t putting up a fight.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he said suddenly.

“Mind what?”

“This.” He poked Noé’s side gently.

“We already bunked together back at the inn. What’s the difference?”

“You did?” Jeanne said incredulously. “Really, Noé…”

“Hm, good. You know, you’re always so cold. How are you resisting the temptation to complain all the time?” He rested a palm on his forehead. “I don’t think a regular human would be this cold.”

Honestly, where was this coming from? Why was he talkative now of all times?

“Now you’re accusing him, too,” Jeanne said. He could hear her sharpening her sword with more force now. Vanitas was definitely getting on her nerves. He was starting to get on Noé’s as well if he were honest.

“It’s normal for me. Vanitas, I’m tired,” he whined.

“But if this a normal temperature for you then surely that would indicate—”

“For crying out loud, Vanitas, shut up,” Jeanne exclaimed.

“I wasn’t talking to you this time,” Vanitas said crossly, sitting up with obvious indignation.

“I’m right here! You can cozy up to Noé later! Or accuse him or whatever it is you’re doing.”

It was cold now that Vanitas had moved away. He frowned in consternation. “You can use me as a pillow, too, if you like.”

“No she can’t; she’s wearing heavy armor,” Vanitas growled.

_“Silence!”_

All three of them paused. None of them had said that.

“Why?” Noé drawled out, sitting up once more. Of course some demon had to be annoyed at their chatter. Of course Vanitas had to choose the most inopportune moments to do whatever it was he’d been doing. And of course Noé wouldn’t be getting any sleep whatsoever.

“Blast it all,” Jeanne cursed. Vanitas drew his bow and aimed it in the direction the voice had come from. It was impossible to see anything in the gloom but Vanitas had remarkably good aim.

“That’s better,” the voice continued. “All these interruptions are enough to make one insane.” A peal of high-pitched laughter followed.

“Insane sounds about right,” Vanitas chuckled. The figure finally made an appearance. He was tall and wore thick robes. He must be one of Hell’s magi.

“Here, take this and leave me to my work.” The creature flung a book at them. It landed flat in Noé’s lap with pinpoint accuracy. Noé glanced at Jeanne in confusion.

“You want us to leave,” Jeanne said flatly.

“Obviously. You three are some of the noisiest mortals I’ve ever had the misfortune to stumble across. Normally I’d just torture you, extract something useful from you, but that sounds like a lot of work and none of you seem all that bright. My workroom is just over there, which really should have been obvious.”

A workroom? How had they missed that?

“We’re sorry for interrupting your work,” Noé offered. This demon was definitely the most intelligent they’d stumbled across so far. It seemed Vanitas had been right about there being academic types. This magus clearly wanted nothing to do with them.

“Hm, good. I suppose you’re the ones abolishing demons left and right?”

“Yes?” Jeanne said hesitantly.

“Well, keep it down, would you?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Jeanne sounded about as bewildered as Noé felt.

“I am Zhar. Now be quiet.”

With that he floated back to what Noé could only assume was the workroom he’d mentioned before.

“That was … strange,” Jeanne managed.

“What did he give you?” Vanitas asked, turning back toward Noé. “Evidently some kind of book once more. There are far too many books in this place.”

Noé glanced down at it. It was definitely a spell book, there was no doubt about that, but for a demon to toss it at them so cavalierly was disconcerting at best. Surely, this would be more dark magic. Carefully, Noé opened it.

“It’s something called ‘Elemental.’”

Jeanne leaned over his shoulder to get a better look. “You can really read this?” she said in confusion.

“What’s unusual about that?” Vanitas said.

“It’s not in English is why,” Noé said absently, already preoccupied with gleaning the basics of the spell.

Vanitas moved closer to get a better look. When he glanced down at the book a strained sound left him. Noé glanced up curiously.

“This is in the language of Hell,” Vanitas said. “Why can you read it?”

Jeanne blinked in surprise and backed away uneasily. “Is that the language the last book was in as well?”

“Yes, of course. These are spell books from this area. Why wouldn’t they be written in this language?”

“That’s all very well and good but why can _you_ read it?” Vanitas said stiffly.

“My teacher taught me.” It seemed terribly unimportant in the face of the knowledge before him. The spell could summon some kind of apparition made of fire. It would be right up Noé’s alley.

“And why did your teacher know it?” Jeanne said slowly.

Finally catching on to what they were getting at Noé froze. Ah, a regular human wouldn’t be able to read this at all, would they? The only reason Vanitas could decipher it was because he’d essentially been raised in Hell but Noé hardly had that excuse.

“Um…”

“Your skin is cold to the touch, you excel at fire spells, your eyes…” Vanitas took in a sharp breath. “Oh, I see.”

“What do you see?” Jeanne demanded tension lining her every word.

“Vanitas…”

“You’re a vampire. I suspected something was off when I met you but…”

Jeanne let out a loud laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Noé isn’t a _vampire._ Why would he be helping us if that was the case? Noé, tell him he’s being ridiculous.”

He would love to do just that but he couldn’t lie now. Vanitas was studying him but he wasn’t moving away, which was already more than he could have hoped for. Jeanne was panicking but maybe if he explained…

“I … yes, I’m afraid he’s correct.”

Jeanne made a choking sound.

“Don’t act so shocked,” Vanitas said irritably, “there’s something wrong about you, too.”

“There is nothing wrong with me!”

“Not that I can really judge either way. I don’t know what I expected when I left Hell but purposefully traveling _back_ with a vampire and a cursed woman as allies wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“I’m not cursed!”

“Whatever you say,” Vanitas mumbled. “Well, this has been interesting. Weren’t we trying to get some sleep?”

“I think that man wanted us to move,” Noé said uneasily.

“Wait, wait, we are not moving camp,” Jeanne said unsteadily, “not until we get to the bottom of this. Noé, you’re a vampire? What are you doing with us?”

“I wasn’t always a vampire,” Noé said indignantly. “I’m here because I like humans. I’ve never even been to Hell.”

Vanitas let out a shriek of laughter. “You’re a demon who’s never been to Hell? That’s quite a punch line.”

“Okay.” Jeanne took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself. Noé would have offered some assistance but seeing as he was the problem there was little he could offer. “All right, this doesn’t change anything. You’re still you just more … infernal?” She clutched at the air, trying to put it together.

“It does explain why his eyes reflect hellfire on occasion,” Vanitas said idly.

Noé blinked. “They do no such thing.”

“Yes, they do.”

“And what do you mean I’m cursed?” Jeanne demanded, seeming to have given up on putting Noé’s lineage together for the moment.

“Look, you move far too smoothly to be human. I don’t know what you are but you’re hardly a normal woman. Right now my best guess is you’ve been cursed or blessed if you prefer to see it that way.”

“My teacher always viewed vampirism as a blessing,” Noé said.

“Oh? What about you?”

“I haven’t decided myself.”

“Does it really matter?” Jeanne sighed, repositioning herself where she’d been before Zhar showed up. “It doesn’t change what you are. Not that I’m judging what you are.” She stared off into the distance, a frown on her face.

“There aren’t many vampires down there,” Vanitas said quietly. “At least, I’ve never met one before. Most of them seem to prefer it in Sanctuary with the humans. Is it true you can turn a human into one of your own?”

“Yes,” Noé said. “I have never done such a thing myself, however.”

“Good,” Jeanne muttered.

“Ever done anything particularly vampiric?”

“I don’t know. What do you mean?”

Vanitas gave him a small grin. “You’re the most innocent demon I’ve ever met. You’re a strange study in contradictions, you know?”

“You’re a strange human as well. But maybe we should move the camp? I don’t want to upset that fellow again.”

“Oh, just get some sleep, Noé,” Vanitas teased. “Look, he hasn’t come back yet and it’s ridiculous for us to have to move just because he has a hard time focusing on his work.”

“I’m forced to agree,” Jeanne sighed. “It took enough time setting this up. I don’t want to have to take it down and traverse this place just to make one demon marginally happier.”

Carefully, Noé lied back down, taken aback when Vanitas promptly lied beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow once more. He flinched for a moment before getting up momentarily to push his book away from him. “It was being too noisy,” he said by way of explanation before resting against him once more.

There was nothing but the sound of Jeanne sharpening her sword for a time and the occasional creak and moan of the stonework around them. Noé’s need for rest was put off by several burning questions the most notable being how Vanitas had accepted what he was so readily. Surely he would hold some kind of grudge against demons?

Vanitas was wrapped around him in such a way that indicated he must not mind _that_ much. It was nice even if the stone floor was cold. He wasn’t sure how Vanitas could possibly be comfortable beside him.

“I thought you’d be more put off by what I am,” he whispered, unable to hold back the question any longer. Jeanne was sharpening her sword furiously, so he supposed he had enough privacy to converse for a moment. Perhaps she was sorting it all, trying to decide what to make of it. Noé didn’t blame her.

Vanitas looked away, considering the question laid out before him. His eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.

“Many of the denizens of Hell are human you know,” he said suddenly, “and they are on par with the demons, let me tell you. What does it matter if you’re a vampire or a human? You’re trying to stop Diablo and your shoulder is comfortable even if you are colder than any being should be.” He traced the runes on his robe idly. “You’re still a soft-hearted fool but I think I like it. What about you?” he said, glancing up at him meaningfully.

It suddenly clicked for Noé then. Ah, so that’s what he’d been trying to get at back then with all that talk about Jeanne and what Noé liked. He suddenly felt very foolish. What was more surprising still was how easily he understood his own feelings on the matter.

“I think I like you, too.” Sure, Vanitas was absurdly grumpy on occasion but he was also beautiful and fought valiantly even though their destination was surely his worst nightmare.

“Finally, you catch on,” Vanitas muttered. He eyed him consideringly before seeming to reach a decision. He flung a leg over him and Noé was startled to see he was sitting atop him now. Before he could say anything at all he was jerked upwards and firm lips were being pressed against his own. He let out a grunt of surprise. This was far more sudden, far more _forward_ than he had anticipated.

Distantly Noé heard Jeanne let out a high-pitched squeak. It was also … probably not appropriate.

Vanitas forcibly pulled himself away at that and all but bellowed, “Argh! Fine, you can join in if you absolutely have to.” Noé stared up at him dumbly. What?

“What? Absolutely not!” Jeanne screeched. “What do you think you’re doing? There’s no time for _that._ ”

“I-I think she might have a point,” Noé said unsteadily but his eyes drifted down to Vanitas’s exposed clavicle and he wondered if this was a battle he was willing to fight.

Vanitas let out a scoffing sound. “The world will probably end. What better time than this?”

“Vanitas, come on…”

“You can’t just—we’re in a warzone!”

“Enough!” Zhar roared and with that he teleported to a more strategic angle of the hall and pointed his staff at them directing a large ball of fire their way.

They all managed to dash away in the nick of time, Noé with some difficult as he had to push Vanitas off first and he was still, frankly, confused and tired. At least the adrenaline was starting to wake him up.

Zhar was quite a skilled magus it turned out, which was the last thing Noé wanted to deal with. Jeanne rushed at him and was quickly propelled away by a ring of lightning. Vanitas notched his bow and began to let his arrows fly. A few made contact but Zhar teleported away before any real effect could be had.

Slowly, Noé concentrated and reached for the flow of mana within him and summoned Guardian. The beast slithered out of the stone flooring with a rush of magical energy and began to hurl fire at Zhar.

Before long he let out a howl of defeat and fell, a circle of blood spreading from where he’d once stood. The three breathed heavily trying to process what had just happened.

“So, either of you magpies want to see what was in his workroom?” Vanitas finally huffed out.

Naturally, they did.

It wasn’t terribly far away, which wasn’t surprising given how swiftly he’d descended upon them. It wasn’t a very large room but it was filled with bookcases and arcane artifacts. It was also the first room Noé could recall having a rug of any kind. Apparently, Zhar liked comfort. He took a brief moment to feel bad about what became of him but, well, he had attacked first.

The room also contained a shrine. Noé studied it carefully. Shrines were typically a great boon; they offered all kinds of blessings. Still, considering where they were…

“Are you going to touch it?” Vanitas said, rifling through books and tossing them aside when he deemed them useless.

“That’s what I’m trying to decide,” Noé admitted.

“Is this enchanted sword polish?” Jeanne said uncertainly. Noé strolled over and studied it carefully.

“It seems like it. If I’m not mistaken, I think it should enchant your sword with lightning.”

“Lightning?” She perked up immediately. “Maybe I’ll put a little bit on it then just to test it out…”

Vanitas snorted in amusement. “The two of you really do love treasure. Are you sure this isn’t the real reason you’re down here?”

“We didn’t mean to fight Zhar,” Noé reminded him.

“Yes, he only came after us because you two were caught _in flagrante delicto,_ ” she said with obvious annoyance.

“I’ll have you know no crime was a-blazing,” Vanitas said, his voice thick with amusement, “although we may have gotten to it.”

Jeanne muttered something unsavory under her breath that left Vanitas laughing merrily.

It was safer to just leave them to it, Noé swiftly decided. He wasn’t in the mood to argue whether there was a crime on fire or whatever it was they were talking about. At least they were getting along more or less. He rather wished it hadn’t required him to be in such an embarrassing predicament to make it happen, though.

Deciding his day couldn’t get much worse he touched the shrine. A bright light flashed before him and he heard Vanitas and Jeanne let out a cry of shock.

“What did you do?” Jeanne demanded.

“I think he touched the shrine,” Vanitas said.

“Yes, I can see that. I want to know _why._ ”

“Shrines are useful,” Noé said tentatively, lifting his hands up to inspect them. His skin was all but _buzzing_ with barely contained energy. “I think this just amplified my mana.”

“Sounds useful,” Vanitas said.

“Is that … dangerous?”

“I don’t think so,” Noé mused. “I think it means I’ll have more spiritual energy, essentially. I won’t tire as swiftly.”

“You already have incredible stamina but I suppose more can’t hurt,” Jeanne admitted.

“Well, with all that out of the way, how about we camp out here? I think this area is more than cleared out and we’ll need our rest before we enter the caves.”

Noé agreed swiftly as did Jeanne and soon they were sprawled out on the carpet. Noé fell into a deep slumber hearing Jeanne and Vanitas argue about whether she could sleep with her armor on or not. Noé smiled softly. As strange as it was, things were nice right now.

As he slept he was aware that he wasn’t having any dreams. Was that a normal thing to be aware of or not?

_How fares the quest,_ mon chaton?

_Teacher?_

_Indeed. I see you’re taking some sort of potion. Have you forgotten what I told you so swiftly?_

_I’m sorry, Teacher…_

_No matter. Just remember: the book will be the solution. As for where you are now, you’re close. I have no doubt you can do this, lad, but don’t lose yourself in the process. Be wary of those who would manipulate your mind._

_Who would do that?_

His teacher smiled softly and caressed his hair as he often had when Noé was studying with him in Lut Gholein.

_That should be obvious. The Dark Lord manipulates the minds of men through their dreams and their waking thoughts. So far he has not attempted this with you but that may not always be the case. Take care as you go further down._

His teacher stood and Noé knew he was about to leave once more. No, not again!

_Teacher! Please! Did you know all of this would happen? Why won’t you return to Tristram?_

_I cannot. I am too closely tied to Hell; the Lord of Terror would surely try to bring me under his thumb. You are an unknown entity to him and thus you have some chance of success. Do not fail me._

Noé jerked awake, breathing heavily. He turned his head wildly to and fro before finally recognizing his surroundings. Zhar’s workroom. He let out a sigh of relief. Nothing had come to claim them in the night or whatever time of day it was currently. It was far too easy to lose track of time down here.

He looked down to see that Vanitas was still curled around him, his breath was shallow but he seemed well enough. He clutched at Noé’s robes with more strength than one might think he had by looks alone. Jeanne was on his other side, her hand clutching his own. He gave it a little squeeze and she smiled in her sleep. It looked as though Vanitas had managed to convince her to remove her pauldrons after all. He was grateful for that; they were rather pointy.

Carefully, he attempted to extricate himself without waking either of his companions. Jeanne stirred slightly but Vanitas didn’t move at all. Noé let out a sigh of relief.

He felt restored. The combination of the shrine and a good night’s sleep had done him wonders. He stretched out his back and dug through their pack of supplies for the rations.

Suddenly, soft laughter filled the air and Noé froze. Warily, he looked over at Vanitas who was shaking slightly in his sleep.

“We’re getting closer,” Vanitas said, “so much closer. Soon… soon…”

“Vanitas?” Noé said carefully.

“Yes, that’s me. Not him, no, he uses my name, but it’s still me…” His eyes were still closed. Was he dreaming? Sleep talking? But the voice…

“Who are you?” Noé said instead with more calm than he felt.

“I’m Vanitas, of course. We’ll meet properly soon enough.”

He stilled. Noé froze. He wasn’t breathing.

Noé dashed over and swiftly scanned his body with his magic, seeking some kind of injury he could actually fix but there wasn’t anything wrong with him.

“Noé, what’s going on?” Jeanne said sleepily.

He didn’t spare the time to answer her. While there wasn’t anything physically wrong he could sense was spiritually. He cursed himself. He should have done this kind of inspection the moment Vanitas started to behave strangely but they’d only just met! How as he to know something was amiss?

Seeming to realize what was going on Jeanne swiftly rose and fetched some water and handed it to Noé. He splashed it across Vanitas’s face without effect. Just as he was about to begin mouth-to-mouth resuscitation Vanitas took in a deep breath and let out a loud cry of pain as he clutched at his hand. The _Book of Vanitas_ was glowing softly at his side.

“What’s happening?” Jeanne cried.

“I don’t know!”

Vanitas seized and then stilled with just as much suddenness. He opened his eyes and looked around, his eyes rimmed red. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all despite being so peaceful mere moments before.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he finally said, still clutching at his hand.

“Vanitas, there is something very wrong happening to you,” Noé said as gently as he could despite his nerves running a mile a minute. “Someone else was using your voice. You stopped breathing. I thought—” He thought he’d lost him and he’d only just found him.

“I see,” Vanitas said softly. Jeanne helped him sit up; Noé needed to pace. He couldn’t stand still with all of this happening.

“Did you know about this?” Noé forced out.

“I suspected,” he admitted. “When I sealed Vanitas away I did so with my blood. I thought the matter was taken care of but she is a powerful witch. She must have found some way of using that link to slowly … reawaken.”

“You mean slowly possess you,” Noé said, quickly losing the ability to focus. “You’re being consumed by this … what manner of demon is she?”

“Succubus.”

“Of course she is!” Noé cried. “How are we supposed to know what’s you and what’s her? What if—”

He cut himself off. How _was_ he supposed to know what was Vanitas and what was … the other Vanitas? Vanitas’s entire attraction to him could be influenced by her. He cringed inwardly. They hadn’t done anything, thankfully, but if they had…

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Vanitas snarled. He stormed over and whirled Noé around forcibly. “You’ll know when it’s me and when it’s _her._ I know exactly what you’re thinking and you’re being absurd.”

“Am I, though?”

Jeanne looked between them with concern evident on her face.

“Is there anything we can do?” she said quietly.

“I don’t know,” Vanitas admitted in frustration. He let go of Noé’s shoulder and slid down the wall into a seated position. “I’m hoping I’ll find something down here but so far I haven’t had much luck.” He rubbed at his hand, wincing slightly.

“Let me take a look,” Noé said, gentler this time. Vanitas glared at him slightly but held it out.

Upon it was a glowing blue web. It looked as though it had cracked his very skin. No wonder he was in pain. Noé carefully reached out to it with his magic and frowned at what he encountered. It was just like the book; he could sense a presence there. It was dim but if this mark grew…

“You can’t do anything, can you?” Vanitas said quietly, snatching his hand away.

“This magic is … beyond me,” Noé admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. We’ll figure this out, Vanitas. I think we need to return to town and talk to Master Cain. Perhaps he will know something of the history of these spells. If not him then perhaps Mistress Adria. Maybe even Master Pepin!” He was grasping at straws now and he knew it. Judging by Vanitas’s pitying look he knew it, too.

“Perhaps we should return for a time regardless and stock up on supplies.” Jeanne was already getting her pauldrons back on as though she were about to lead an army into battle rather than question a few peasants. As long as they were headed for Tristram Noé didn’t mind either way; he rather felt this was the right attitude to have right now.

“No, I can’t go through the portal,” Vanitas said firmly.

“Why not?” Noé demanded.

“I just … can’t.” He clutched at his temple, his eyes narrowed.

“Is it that you can’t or that she doesn’t _want_ you to? What if she’s growing stronger here?”

“I…”

Jeanne opened the portal without hesitation. “You’re going through,” she announced. “Noé, drag him if you have to.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Vanitas said stepping out of the way as Noé moved toward him. “I’ll come with; there might be something to what you said.”

Noé placed a hand on the small of his back regardless to encourage him forward and the three finally made their way back to Tristram. The cool air came as a shock and Noé had to blink to prove to himself he wasn’t dreaming again. It was nighttime. Evidently, they really had lost track of time down there.

Vanitas stayed close to him as they walked into town. Ultimately, Noé wrapped an arm around him more to reassure himself than anything else. Vanitas rolled his eyes at him but allowed the gesture. He felt as though he could lose him at any moment. It was disturbing.

Despite the hour, Cain was wandering through the town square, taking in the stars above. He turned toward their thundering steps and walked to meet them halfway.

When Noé explained the situation to him Cain heaved a sigh. “You’ve encountered a situation that comes up all too often yet has no satisfactory answer.”

“This is a common occurrence? That seems unlikely; my circumstances are unique.”

“So they are but possession has been around since the dawn of time, I’m sad to say. Certainly the method it has come about is somewhat unusual but possession itself? No.”

Noé knew that much already. He’d briefly studied the subject but he’d found it unsavory. Now that it was happening in front of him he found it far worse than that. Vanitas could lose himself entirely.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Noé said.

“No, I’m afraid not. Normally, I would say you need to cleanse the item or perform an exorcism but with how the spirit and the item are bound to Vanitas through his blood the repercussions for doing so could affect his very soul. I’m sorry; you used demonic magic to free yourself. You may have to find demonic magic to release yourself as well.”

Vanitas glanced over at Noé and gripped his hand tightly. “That is what I intend to do.”

“Would Mistress Adria or Master Pepin know?” Noé asked desperately.

“Noé…” Jeanne’s voice was hushed, sad. No, they couldn’t just give up.

“You can ask, of course, but I don’t see how either of them would know any more about the subject.” Cain rested a hand on Noé’s shoulder. It was supposed to be consoling but all it did was sour his mood further. He didn’t need comfort, he needed a solution.

“Thank you, Master Cain. We’ll look into it.” Cain nodded his eyes trailing after them as they walked away.

Neither Adria nor Pepin knew anything further. Pepin merely expressed profound grief and gave them several health potions for free. It didn’t help their immediate problem but Noé was forced to admit it would be absurdly useful in the long run.

Adria had been quiet a little bit longer after they’d told her. She had moved a hand over Vanitas, measured his spirit, and ultimately said it was beyond her skills.

“Cain speaks true: he must find the solution down there or find none at all.”

Defeated, they left her shack. Noé looked down at Vanitas’s hand in his own. Physically it didn’t feel any different from before. It was warm and soft but he could also feel someone else’s energy pulsing underneath. He hadn’t known what love was only a few hours earlier and now he could only describe it as heartbreak.

“We’re going to get through this ,” Jeanne said softly, taking his other hand in her own. “I swear on my honor.”

For once Vanitas didn’t fling a retort at her. He nodded and gave Noé an uncertain glance when he said nothing at all. Jeanne smiled encouragingly.

“For now, let’s go to Griswold’s and get our armor and weapons repaired, hm? We can get some food at Ogden’s as well.”

Noé nodded absently and allowed the two to drag him towards Griswold’s. Logically, he knew it made sense. They should get their things repaired before returning but there was another part of him that wanted to whisk Vanitas away and hide him from the darkness churning beneath them as if it would somehow solve everything.

“Evening, there!” Griswold called out cheerfully from where he was smelting. “I see you’ve returned from your travels downwards. If you still intend on going back, I may have something of interest for you.”

“Not again,” Vanitas muttered. More loudly he said, “You know finding these things isn’t exactly easy and these two fold under the power of persuasion.”

“Er, well, I see. But this is quite a tale! I’m sure you would like to hear it.”

“Of course we would,” Jeanne said, giving a pointed glare at Vanitas. “We would be grateful if you could take a look at our weapons and armor as you do so.”

Griswold quickly got to work, tutting at the state of their things. Jeanne’s armor in particular was severely dented and scratched. She had paved the way for him and Vanitas on far too many occasions. How she didn’t tire he couldn’t understand but he was grateful she was so skilled on their journey.

“So, what is it you wanted to tell us about?” Jeanne ran a hand through her hair, wincing slightly when she saw how dirty it was.

“Oh, that’s right. The Anvil of Fury!”

“I can already tell I don’t like where this is going,” Vanitas groaned. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Wonderful! I heard it contains the very essence of the underworld within and that anything made with it is imbued with great power. It would be quite a find,” he said, his eyes glinting, “and it could easily take down one of its own creatures. I reckon even the Dark Lord himself.”

Vanitas heaved a sigh of defeat and glanced at both Jeanne and Noé. “It probably doesn’t matter but we’re talking about an item located in the Burning Hellforge. The anvil itself was crafted with the metallic bones of razor pit demons and was smelt around the skulls of the five most powerful magi.”

Seeing the blank looks from all three of them he gripped the bridge of his nose tiredly. “It is infused with dark magic to put it bluntly. Sure, it could destroy demons but think of what it would do to the one who wielded it!”

“Would it have an ill effect?” Jeanne said hesitantly.

“Would an item from Hell have an ill effect? Oh, that’s so hard to say,” Vanitas snarled, jabbing at the book at his side.

“It could do great things even with the sacrifice,” Jeanne said suddenly stern. “You made your choice and you made it knowing there might be consequences. You can’t take the choice away from us.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear on more than one occasion.”

The two glared daggers at each other. Griswold went back to smelting, his previous smile wiped away. He gestured at Noé who got up to stand beside him.

“What is going on with those two, lad? Is this a lover’s quarrel?”

“If only,” Noé muttered. “They see things very differently,” he said at a regular volume, “and they don’t really know how to compromise. Jeanne is willing to take risks and Vanitas … isn’t.” Not anymore at least. He’d evidently been all right taking a risk to gain his freedom. “I don’t know what to do about it,” Noé admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Noé. That must be hard on you. You were always the type to take on too much. They’ll learn to forgive each other, don’t you worry.”

“I hope so.” Noé offered him a nod of acknowledgment. “How much longer for these to be finished?”

“Well, I’ll be heading to bed soon. I can finish Jeanne’s sword tonight. You lot may as well make use of a good bath and a good night’s sleep in the meantime.”

Noé didn’t bother to mention they’d only recently awoken from their rest. If he was honest, he could already feel his limbs going heavy. Perhaps he hadn’t been out all that long.

Noé let out a long yawn. “I think I’ll head home. I don’t think I’m in the mood for the inn right now.”

“I understand,” Jeanne said gently. “I’ll be there if you need me. It can’t hurt to rest in a more familiar area anyway. It will do you some good.”

Vanitas hesitantly stood beside him. Noé gave him a wan smile. “You can come with me, if you like,” he offered softly. Vanitas gave a curt nod. They bid Jeanne good night; she intended to stay with Griswold a while longer until her sword was fully repaired.

They walked quietly together before Vanitas said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen where you live.”

“No, I haven’t really had much opportunity to be there. I was gone for five years and when I returned I got wrapped up in all of this.”

“You were gone for five years?”

“Yes, I was summoned by my teacher to Lut Gholein to continue my training.”

Vanitas didn’t say anything more until they got to his small cottage. He looked around curiously, taking in the small, neglected garden to the side, and then the modest furnishings within. Noé didn’t live in the lap of luxury but it was comfortable enough. His teacher preferred grandiose possessions, the very height of luxury, but Noé had always been more comfortable in more humble settings.

“It’s nice,” Vanitas finally said. “It’s different from what I expected.”

“How so?”

“I thought, well, you’re a vampire. They love fire, bright, bold colors, and things like that. It’s a little … subdued in here.” He wasn’t wrong. The furniture was plain and his bed in the corner had dark gray blankets. The only splash of color came from some dried flowers at the windowsill.

“My teacher loves all of those things,” Noé chuckled. “You basically just described him. No, he never understood why I didn’t liven up the place. I’m not sure why I didn’t either… Maybe I knew it was a temporary residence at best.”

Vanitas took a seat at the bench before the hearth. Noé had a fire going in no time at all.

“Tell me some more about this teacher and those dreams of yours.”

“Oh, that’s right. In all the ruckus I forgot to mention I had another.” He took a seat by Vanitas who promptly drew him closer. Noé didn’t resist. He stretched out a tendril of arcane energy and couldn’t sense anyone but Vanitas himself at the moment. He raised a brow at him, obviously picking up on what he was doing.

“How about I set the book aside for now? Would that help?”

Noé nodded hesitantly and Vanitas set the book on the mantelpiece before returning to his side.

“You know, you really shouldn’t forget those things,” Vanitas sighed returning to the topic at hand. He ran a hand through Noé’s hair. “What happened in it then?”

“My teacher spoke to me. He said your book would be the solution.” He paused in his ministrations and gave him a sharp look.

“My book would solve what, exactly?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “He left without telling me.”

“Sounds like a difficult man.” He resumed his motions but there was a small frown on his face as he took in what Noé had told him.

“He is. He never tells me what he’s thinking or let’s me in on his plans. He dragged me all the way to Lut Gholein only to send me back for this. I don’t understand him.”

“That’s far away then?”

Right, he’d forgotten that Vanitas didn’t know a thing about Sanctuary but what a relief it was to finally have someone he could really talk to about everything. Vanitas even knew he was a vampire and accepted it. It was so much more than he’d ever hoped to have.

“Very far. I had to cross the desert. It’s … very different from Tristram. Much larger and everything is made of sand. If I’m honest, the food is better, too…”

Vanitas chuckled softly. “I’d like to see it sometime. Your teacher is a vampire as well, I take it?” He’d moved from caressing his hair to rubbing at his neck. Noé valiantly kept his focus off of that and on the conversation though judging by the wicked grin spreading across Vanitas’s face he knew exactly what he was doing.

“He is and a traditional one at that. He found me when I was a child and turned me. I don’t really remember it but it was in Kurast, I suppose. That’s even further away than Lut Gholein,” he explained at Vanitas’s puzzled look, “and I was raised by him ever since.”

“He stole you from your parents?” Vanitas said, an edge to his voice.

“He said they had died and he saved me from sharing the same fate. Obviously I can’t prove that one way or another.”

“I hope it’s the truth but I would have a hard time believing it,” Vanitas sighed, leaning into him. Noé hated to admit it but there were times where he had questioned the story himself. It all seemed a little too convenient for his teacher. Surely there would have been a suitable protégé in Hell?

“What about you?” Noé said softly, moving on from his personal doubts.

Vanitas finally let him go, a dark look passing over him. “I was raised in Hell. I suspect Vanitas killed my parents or some other demon did. It hardly matters; I don’t remember them at all.”

“I’m sorry.” Was it all right to ask what it was like down there? Would that be overstepping his bounds?

“It was warm,” Vanitas said, a knowing look on his face, “and yet it was also cold in turn. It doesn’t follow the rules of this world. I was … a slave essentially. I did whatever she asked of me and in turn she cared for me if you can call it that. Most demons thought I was spoiled rotten because I wasn’t tortured daily or forced to demean myself publically like other prisoners. But I was her personal pet; I had no freedom and I had no choice but to do as she wished even if I didn’t want to.” His eyes darkened slightly before fixing on Noé once more.

“She allowed me access to books, insisted I be educated, and that proved to be her undoing. I learned a bit of magic, of blood rituals, and here we are. Clearly I don’t have the same talent for it as you. The things you can do with magic, Noé; it’s incredible.”

“I’m not sure I’m all that amazing,” Noé said awkwardly. “I think you’re far more impressive; you managed to make it all the way up here and now you’re going back to face Diablo. You’re stunning.”

“Hmm.” His eyes rested on Noé’s lips pointedly. “Don’t suppose you’ll show me how stunning you think I am?”

“Vanitas, we don’t know how this effects you. I don’t think we should rush anything.”

“It’s me, Noé. I think you would tell the difference; you could tell before, couldn’t you?”

“Well, yes…”

“Then trust me enough to be able to tell you when there’s a problem and when there isn’t.” He reached for Noé’s face, cradling his face gently, an uncertain smile working its way upon his lips.

Noé gazed into his eyes, stretched out another tendril of arcane energy to test his aura, and all he could detect was Vanitas. Certainly there was a trace of that other being but she wasn’t present in the moment.

“You see?”

“I do.”

Carefully, Vanitas brought his lips to Noé’s. It was slower, more relaxed than it had been in the catacombs. Vanitas wrapped an arm tightly about his neck and tugged him closer. It wasn’t long before the world around him dissolved into something warmer and infinitely safer than what it had been mere moments before. Only the moon bore down upon them as witness in that moment.

That night Noé forgot to take his drought; he was bombarded by dreams that swiftly turned to nightmares. Images of his teacher, Vanitas, and a place he’d never been but was sure must be Hell, swirled together in a confusing kaleidoscope.

Slowly, he opened his eyes only to see it was still night. He glanced over to see Vanitas was still sleeping beside him, which was something of a relief given the nature of his dreams. Taking care not to wake him he inspected the mark on his arm. It didn’t look any different from before and the presence was still muted. Perhaps being in Tristram slowed the effect down.

It would make sense to leave Vanitas behind to slow the process. Noé wanted to leave him here where he was marginally safer but he knew Vanitas wouldn’t have it. It was part of what he liked about him but it was frustrating at the moment. When he woke he’d have to ask him more about how he’d bound the demon to the book. Perhaps he could glean some clue as to how to reverse it if he understood the actual process. Noé hadn’t ever had reason to delve into blood magic but he would if it was the only way to cure Vanitas. He was becoming all too aware of the gaps in his knowledge; if only he’d taken more time to pick his teacher’s brain and really learn all there was to know about the arcane. He was a vampire; he had eternity to do it even if he certainly wasn’t that old.

He wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep like this. Awkwardly, he shuffled out of bed and wrote a note for Vanitas so he’d know where he’d gone. He would probably be back before he woke but he didn’t want to risk worrying him. He made sure the blankets were tucked about him securely before departing for the inn. With any luck, Jeanne would still be awake and he could discuss his concerns with her.

The inn was silent as the grave when he got there. He hung his head in disappointment but he shouldn’t have been so surprised. Jeanne needed her rest and Ogden would surely be sleeping now as well. Despite that he took a seat at the bar and took a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of mead and spiced potatoes that lingered in the air even when there was no one around at all.

When was the last time he’d had a full meal? He’d have to ensure they all had one before they departed once more. It would have to be everyone’s favorite meal; part of him wondered if they’d make it back up to Tristram this time. He’d done his best not to think about their ultimate destination but Hell wasn’t a place you just left once you were there. Vanitas was the only thing giving him real hope in that regard. He’d gotten out once. Maybe he could do it again assuming his soul was still in place at that point.

“Noé?”

He looked up to see Jeanne standing at the foot of the stairs.

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “I don’t really know what to do with myself right now.”

“Is Vanitas here, too?” She glanced about the room as if expecting him to jump out of one of the shadowed corners.

“No, he’s still sleeping at home.”

“You left him there?” she said bemusedly. She walked over to sit beside him, her movements graceful and fluid.

Noé shifted uncomfortably. It occurred to him that that could be seen as a little rude now. “I left a note so he would know I hadn’t abandoned him. I got caught up in thinking about our quest and…”

“You’re worried about him,” she finished, sympathy shining in her wide eyes.

“Jeanne… I think I might care about him a great deal. I know it must seem sudden but I really don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to him.”

“I think he feels the same even if he chooses to express it in a … dubious fashion.” Her nose crinkled in discomfiture. “I suppose they don’t really emphasize discreteness down there. I’m happy for you, Noé, but I think we do have to consider what returning to Hell might do to him.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I wish he wasn’t so dead set on coming with. What if it’s that demon influencing him, convincing him he needs to be down there?”

Jeanne nodded in consideration. “She very well could be but it doesn’t change the fact there’s no cure up here. We don’t know how Hell will affect any of us but we’re going ourselves regardless, aren’t we? It’s our choice to make and we’ve made it. We each want to see this through, Vanitas included. Whatever happens we will know we did it to serve the light and to protect Sanctuary.”

“The mission trumps everything else,” Noé said gloomily. “I wish it were as easy for me to embrace that as it is for you.”

She gripped his hand tightly. When he met her gaze he was startled to see how much fear and remorse he saw there.

“It’s not easy, Noé. I just know there’s nothing else to be done. I’ve been thinking about what Vanitas said, about my being cursed…”

“Don’t listen to him about that. He was being absurd.”

“Except I think he might be right,” she said quietly, her grip hardening. “Lately, my skills _have_ increased; I don’t need sleep as often as I should, I can see better in the darkness than I ever used to, and fighting feels so … simple.

“Furthermore, I don’t remember that day as well as I made it sound. I remember the knights turned on King Leoric; they were furious about the war he’d made them wage, the pointlessness of it all and so he cursed them. If what Vanitas says is true, they are surely trapped in Hell now for that crime. But I don’t remember what I was doing that day. Did I side with them? Was I with Prince Luca? I know Archbishop Lazarus has disappeared into the labyrinth and I think Prince Luca is with him but I don’t know it for sure. Shouldn’t I know this? Shouldn’t I…”

Her breath was ragged. When she saw how tightly she was gripping Noé’s hand she hastily let go and held her hand to her chest, hunching in on herself. She looked vulnerable and afraid, two words Noé would never have used to describe her until now.

“I just worry about our expedition. Vanitas is surely cursed, you are a vampire, and if I’m cursed as well… We’re all susceptible to the will of Diablo, more so than any regular human. We’re not ideal for the job.”

“Cursed or not,” Noé took her hands back in his own, “there is no one more suited to the task than you, Lady Jeanne.”

She let out a laugh, tears at the corner of her eyes but they did not fall. “You know you can just call me Jeanne.”

“Jeanne it is then. I know you will do the right thing when that time comes. I just hope the rest of us will follow suit.”

“Thank you, Noé. I could not ask for a truer friend. Also,” at this she turned hesitant, “if you could make it clear to Vanitas I have no interest in joining any of your … activities, I would appreciate it.”

Noé felt his face warm and he nodded vigorously. “I will be sure to let him know.”

“Good. Try not to worry yourself so much in the meantime. We’ll be heading back in the morning but why not have a nice stay while you can?”

She made a valid point, so when he returned he made sure to embrace Vanitas tightly. He hadn’t woken up while he’d been away but he did stir slightly at the contact. For now, this would just have to be enough. Whatever happened next they would face it together. Noé hoped it would be enough.

Thankfully, before they left the next day, they had a large meal just as Noé had hoped. As they ate he thought back to Griswold’s request regarding the Anvil of Fury. It was no doubt along the way and if it could be useful and Jeanne was willing to make that risk then they really ought to seek it out. He thought back to what she’d said about choices. If she was willing, he couldn’t very well stand in her way.

Vanitas’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking about?” he said before stuffing his mouth full of mashed potatoes. Jeanne let out a grunt of disgust but otherwise said nothing.

“I was thinking, maybe we should pursue the anvil? Would it be greatly off course?”

Vanitas sighed in frustration and downed some mead, ignoring Jeanne’s chastisement that he needed to slow down.

“It wouldn’t,” Vanitas finally said, raising his tankard to indicate he wanted more. Ogden let out a soft groan, muttering something about being as bad as Farnham, before giving him some water. Vanitas eyed it in irritation but said nothing.

“In that case, we may as well pursue it. I wouldn’t mind a new sword,” Jeanne said thoughtfully. “Did you want anything made from it, Vanitas?”

“I think one demonic item is enough for me, thanks.”

She shrugged before turning back to Noé. “In that case, should we come across it we may as well make use of it. If Griswold thinks it might be useful I think we should give it a go.”

“Then we’ll go after it, Jeanne.”

“Jeanne?” Vanitas said shrewdly. “Since when are you so casual?”

“She said I could call her that.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“We were just talking; there wasn’t anything untoward going on.”

“I believe you. Ugh, somehow that’s even more disgusting…” He chugged the tankard of water, giving it a glare of disappointment afterwards.

Jeanne looked like she very much wanted to ask how it was ‘more disgusting’ while Noé was trying to sort out if Vanitas was referring to his belief in Noé or Noé’s lack of promiscuity with Jeanne.

Rather than pursue that train of thought any further, Noé excused himself to speak with Ogden. It felt like it had been an age since he’s seen him last.

“Master Noé, how are you? I hope the labyrinth hasn’t been too dangerous.”

Noé decided it was probably best not to reveal how terrible a place it really was and instead he merely said it was “challenging.”

“How are Murr and Melon holding up?” He missed them terribly but at least they didn’t have to suffer with him. Surely they were better up here.

“Quite well, actually. Murr is as grumpy as ever but he’s taken to spending time with Melon. I don’t think she minds. They’re quite an unusual pair; I never thought to see a cat and a horse bonding.”

“It gladdens my heart to hear it, I have to admit. I hope they aren’t causing you too much trouble?”

“Goodness, no. My children have been more than happy to do the bulk of the work in that regard. They love animals and I daresay those two are their favorites.”

Noé felt a smile spread across his face. The thought that he’d managed to bring joy to a couple of innocents somehow made everything a little bit better. Knowing Melon and Murr were well cared for did as well. Perhaps everything really would be all right if such a pairing could still be made to happen.

“Thank you for taking care of them, Ogden. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

“I think it’s I who should be thanking you. Our town is safer because of you and, while it’s a small thing, you returned my sign to me. I think things are looking up.”

“I hope so,” Noé said quietly.

“What do you mean my armor looks like a scaly toad?” Jeanne cried.

“Just that it does. You don’t like toads, now?”

“It looks nothing like one!”

Noé let out a long-suffering sigh and shrugged at Ogden’s wide-eyed stare. “It’s their way of showing they care. I hope. We should probably get going either way.”

“Right, well, good luck with … everything.”

When they returned it took Noé a moment to readjust to the dark lighting of the catacombs.

“Right, well, we’re near the caves now,” Vanitas said without preamble. “Let’s go find that staircase and head down.”

The change in scenery from the gothic architecture and narrow corridors was stark. Noé could see why Vanitas referred to it as the “caves.” Everything was wide and open with rounded dirt walls extending far above them. Wooden beams were spread here and there, presumably to keep the foundations of the cathedral from collapsing. Stalagmites rose from the ground in eerie points. There wasn’t any stonework to be found; the ground was nothing but soft dirt. Everything was lit up with an orange hue. Looking ahead, Noé could see streams of lava.

“It’s hot down here,” Jeanne muttered, wiping sweat of her brow. Noé was forced to agree. It had been relatively cool in the upper floors but this was a complete temperature change.

Vanitas suddenly lurched to his knees, clutching at his hand, a restrained groan of pain escaping him. They both rushed to his side and Noé quickly snatched his hand. The mark was growing larger; it was up to his shoulder and spreading out to his chest now. Noé bit his lip in consternation. It was spreading at a much faster rate than he’d expected.

“Don’t give me that look,” Vanitas growled, snatching his arm away. He forced himself back up unsteadily and began taking in some deep breaths. Jeanne looked at Noé worriedly. There could be no doubt about it; proximity to Hell was speeding up the possession.

Rather than offer up false hope or ask he return to Tristram Noé said, “Talk me through it.”

“What do you mean?” Vanitas said warily, still clutching his arm.

“I mean, tell me about the spell. I’m a sorcerer; maybe I’ll notice something you missed.”

“While you two do that let’s start scoping the area. We’re not safe here.”

Following Jeanne’s advice Vanitas quietly explained the process between slaying demons.

“The book can exorcise demons like I said but it only does so by binding their soul to the book. It prevents them from escaping.”

“So, it’s more a prison than a tool of exorcism.”

“I suppose so. I think if they stay in there long enough they might be exorcised but who knows how long that would take. Anyway, in order to bind them to the book you have to have some kind of attachment to the demon already. She was my captor for so long that it goes without saying we had a bond even if it was a bond of hatred. Then you combine a drop of the demon’s blood with your own, smear it across the cover, and manipulate the demon’s life force into the book, and there you have it: captured.”

“I think I see what happened,” Noé murmured. “Using both of your blood meant she still maintains that link to you spiritually as well.” At Vanitas’s blank look Noé explained, “When you use your blood you’re using a little bit of your spiritual essence as well, so combining them forms a link between each member. I wonder if it’s possible to alter the spell so that something else could be used…”

“What else would you use? If the whole point of the spell is to create a link—”

“That doesn’t mean it’s the only way to use it. You said this book could do other things as well. What else is there?”

Jeanne let out a war cry and slashed at a group of demons before them. Noé summoned forth Guardian, which distracted them adequately so he could continue their conversation.

Keeping an eye on the battle, Vanitas continued, “It functions a bit like a staff. I could channel my mana through it to form more powerful spells but … I’m no sorcerer,” he admitted bitterly. “You might be able to make use of that ability but for me it’s next to useless.”

“I doubt that very much,” Noé mused, “if you were so poor at magic you never would have been able to seal her away to begin with. No, the trouble here is that Hell enjoys blood bonds; they’re like contracts that no one can get out of. I think if you only used the demon’s blood and infused it with your mana it might have another effect. Life force means more in Hell than spiritual energy. The book itself could be used to amplify the spell, thus removing some of the risk of a bond forming.”

“Does any of that help me now?” Vanitas bit out, slashing suddenly to his left as a goatman lunged at them.

“Not really,” Noé admitted sheepishly. “But it’s a start. The more we understand what formed this link the more likely we’ll be able to fix it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Vanitas sighed, wiping his blade clean against his trousers. It was such a minor detail but Noé privately mourned for Vanitas’s clothes. They’d been so lovely when he’d first gotten them and now they were as bloodstained and dirty as his and Jeanne’s.

“We’re near the hellforge if either of you are still interested,” Vanitas said with obvious reluctance. “I’ll just say, once more, I think this is a bad idea. It’s dark magic of the highest order.”

“I know,” Jeanne said, “but we have to defeat Diablo. You’re already taking a great risk coming down here. How can you ask any less of us?”

“I don’t think I like it when you make sense,” Vanitas said irritably. “Fine. I’ll show you the way.”

It was strange to be traversing terrain that was so brightly lit even if it was by hellfire. Noé had gotten used to blending in with the shadows but there was no option to do that here. He simply had to stand his ground and hope for the best. He didn’t like it. Undoubtedly it made it easier for him to aim his spells without fear but that went for the demons down here as well and they were infinitely more intelligent than the ones only a floor above.

As if in response to his inner musings a bolt of lightning struck across the cavern swiftly followed by several more.

“Lightning demons,” Vanitas hissed, shooting an arrow at them immediately. They were enormous with a long tail, leathery skin, and horns atop their heads. If they’d only been shooting fire they would have fit the stereotypical image of a demon with pinpoint accuracy.

Figuring that it was spacious enough to finally test out the spell Zhar had given him he summoned Elemental. A figure sheathed in fire burst from his staff and ran across the room barreling into the demon. It let out a shriek of rage before falling. Noé’s eyes narrowed. Was it a fire spirit of some kind?

Regardless, the spell was clearly a powerful one and so he kept at it, summoning Guardian on occasion until the room was filled with the roar of fire.

Vanitas let out a whoop followed by amused cackling . Jeanne stood to the side, watching the destruction taking place.

Finally, the demons were gone and Noé hunched over wearily, uncorking a mana potion. That had been exhausting.

“I don’t know about you, Jeanne, but I think I’m content to let Noé do all the fighting.” He wrapped an arm about his shoulders fondly. Noé gave him a wan grin before downing a second mana potion.

“When did you become that powerful?” Jeanne exclaimed.

“I think I finally found a good combination of spells,” Noé admitted.

“I’ll say.” Vanitas smiled at him warmly. “Don’t push it too much; save some of that for Diablo.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Only a little ways ahead of them was the anvil. It sat in the center of the room looking far too innocuous considering the trouble they’d just gone through to get it. They approached it carefully, Vanitas keeping his bow notched as he scanned the area.

“Are you sure this is it?” Jeanne said uncertainly. “It looks so normal, nothing like a demonic anvil.”

“That’s it,” Vanitas said confidently, his body taut with tension. “It may look normal but that simply belies what it’s capable of. Hell knows better than to make the truly useful items stand out.”

“You make a fine point,” Jeanne admitted. “I suppose we must get this to Griswold.”

“You go, Jeanne,” Vanitas said. “I want to talk to Noé.”

“Whatever about? Can’t you do that in town?”

“I’d rather not,” he said neutrally.

At Jeanne’s look of confusion Noé shrugged. He had no idea what it was he wanted to talk about any more than Jeanne did.

“I suppose it shouldn’t take too long to get something forged with this since it’s Griswold who’s doing the work.” She looked between them uncertainly one last time before summoning a town portal and dragging the anvil through with her.

“What was that about?” Noé asked cautiously. “It would have been nice to help her carry it, you know.”

“I just want to warn you. If she uses the sword forged from that, which she surely will, she’ll be one step closer to being a Hell Knight, a demon.”

Noé thought back to the conversation he and Jeanne had had only the night before.

_If I’m cursed as well…_

“I told her that even if she is cursed there is no one more qualified to stop Diablo than her.”

“You would say something like that.” He didn’t sound upset but he did look sad. “She may very well be able to resist the curse just fine but I wanted to prepare you.”

“Shouldn’t you tell Jeanne?” Noé asked tentatively. “Isn’t it a little more pertinent for her to know?”

“I suspect she already does. She’s not foolish, no matter how much I tease her.” Noé wondered idly how much of their ‘banter’ really qualified as teasing. “I think she knows how big a risk this is but I wasn’t sure you did. What with my … fading, I didn’t want you to be caught off guard by more bad news.”

“Thank you. I still choose to believe Jeanne will be fine and that we will restore you as well.”

“You know, I won’t die, Noé, even if I’m no longer here…”

“Don’t say that.”

Vanitas shook his head but rather than say anything he simply pressed his lips to Noé’s own in a chaste kiss. Noé returned it readily enough but he wished it didn’t feel so much like giving up. They would sort this out regardless of whether Vanitas believed him or not.

 “And I’m back—oh, you’re at it again…” Jeanne looked a little queasy but once they’d separated she held up the sword proudly.

“What do you think?

It was a fine piece; there was no doubt about it. It shimmered with a strange light and Noé could sense the power emanating from it even from a few feet away. Jeanne didn’t seem changed by it but there was tension in her shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

“How does it feel?” Vanitas said quietly.

“It’s … heavy. Not like other swords. It’s more like a spiritual weight but I will bear it. I think this will surely help us abolish our enemies.”

Vanitas nodded reluctantly. “It will certainly do that. Let us continue onwards.”

The caverns seemed to stretch on for miles. They traveled down numerous stone staircases and they still seemed no closer to Hell. Vanitas assured him they were making progress but Noé was starting to feel twitchy. There was a growing ringing sound in his ears that he was fairly certain only he could hear. Uneasily, he wondered if he was hearing Hell itself. Were there bells down there? What manner of civilization did demons have anyway? His teacher had only remarked that powerful demons had their own domain sectioned off from other demons. Did they have servants?

“Stop thinking so loud,” Vanitas sighed, giving him a gentle shove. “You’re tiring me out and you’re not even saying anything.”

“Sorry, I was just wondering what it’s like down there.”

Vanitas let out a groan. “Noé, you’re going to find out soon enough. Why think about the place the whole way down? You’re not going to solve it any sooner.”

“You could tell us some more about it,” Noé pointed out.

“I’ve been wondering myself,” Jeanne admitted. “Will there be fire and brimstone everywhere? If so, how is this area not Hell already?”

“It depends on the area,” Vanitas finally said after rubbing his temples. “There are some sections similar to this while others are completely different. I can’t tell you what section we’ll wind up in because it’s an ever-shifting environment. The area I escaped had streams of magma and a giant obsidian palace with a blue moon overhead because that’s what Vanitas wanted it to look like. So no, I can’t tell you much about where we’re going.”

“Seems like she enjoyed … extravagance?”

“She certainly enjoyed something like that. She spent all her time in the library or the dungeons, so I’m not sure the outdoors mattered all that much to her. What about your teacher, Noé? Did he say anything about his section?”

“He said he had several cats.”

“Your teacher kept cats in Hell,” Vanitas said flatly. “Everything you tell me about him makes me think he’s that much more eccentric.”

“You’re not wrong. He chose Lut Gholein because of its decadence. I still don’t know why he left Hell to begin with; I imagine he had more luxury there than in Sanctuary.”

“I suppose even long-established demons can tire of the status quo.”

The next staircase they only managed to reach after going through several lightning demons, magma creatures, and a few gargoyles. Jeanne’s blade lit up the trail, flames licking off of it, singing and slicing their enemies in turn.

There was an icy breeze wafting from this entry. Vanitas stared at it grimly.

Jeanne coughed suddenly, some blood dribbling down her chin.

“Jeanne?” Noé rushed over and cast a healing spell on her. She waived him away.

“I think it’s just the sword,” she admitted. “It’s taking a toll. But we’re nearly there. I can sense it.” There were dark rings under her eyes that Noé was sure hadn’t been there mere hours earlier. He glanced over at Vanitas. The mark was glowing brighter now and had clearly spread across his torso. Vanitas shrugged nonchalantly but Noé could see fear in his eyes.

Tentatively, they went down the staircase. When they emerged Noé’s heart sank for there was only one place they could be now.

Hell.

Before them was nothing but cold, dark stone. Humans on pikes were spread throughout the room and large bones formed the archway of their exit as if from some kind of dragon. Noé could smell rivers of blood behind the walls.

“We must be getting close,” Jeanne said quietly, shuddering as another coughing fit took over. Vanitas’s eye was twitching uncontrollably, his face placid, his fists clenched at his side.

“Vanitas?”

He drew in a shuddering breath and gave Noé a quick nod. “It’s still me.”

But it wouldn’t be for long and they both knew it. Vanitas glanced at Jeanne. She wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate either. For the first time since reentering labyrinth Noé felt a trickle of real dread. This was a doomed place; how had he ever thought they could survive this?

The bells he’d been hearing on the way down were now overwhelmingly loud and they were joined by soft moans of pain. He wanted to ask if either of them could hear it but they were clearly suffering enough as it was.

“Let’s go, you two,” he said instead with as much gentleness as he could muster.

It wasn’t long before they were confronted by the very creature Vanitas had been most concerned with: the Hell Knights. Jeanne held herself steady and said a quick prayer before lunging at them with even more ferocity than she’d shown before. It was personal now; some of them were people she had known and Noé knew it had to hurt to know they had been damned so thoroughly and that she might soon follow.

Vanitas carefully struck them down from a distance, hugging the curve of the wall as best he could. While it was still more spacious down here than the catacombs had been there were also sections designed to confuse one’s sense of direction. Corridors would grow suddenly smaller, demons would choke the entryway, making it all but impossible to get through, and the Hell Knights were soon joined by several succubi and incubi who seemed to specialize in a long-distance bolt that, when it made contact with anything, burst into a widespread ring of their chosen element. Noé was finally beginning to appreciate the full power of Hell.

A choked gurgle came from behind him. It was one of the Hidden, a creature that could disappear and reappear at choice. It had a distended stomach and a singular eye. They weren’t terribly powerful but they were horrifying.

Before Noé could swing his staff at this one an arrow pierced it through its forehead. There wasn’t time to thank Vanitas, so he returned his focus to the succubi currently hurling magic at them. So this was the type of creature the demon sealed away in Vanitas’s book was. They looked deceivingly human if you ignored the leathery wings and the infernal glow of their eyes. They were also lacking in modesty, much like their male counterparts, and while Noé didn’t particularly care one way or another he did consider this may explain some of Vanitas’s own lack of propriety.

At long last the swarm of enemies was vanquished leaving just a singular Hell Knight before them. Jeanne let out a cry but before her sword could make contact it held up its arms and said, “Please! Stay your sword. Don’t kill me, just hear me out. My name is Lachdanan and I was once captain of the king’s guard.”

Jeanne all but tripped over herself in shock. Noé let out a gasp; he remembered Jeanne had spoken of him before. Hadn’t he been one of the truest servant of the king?

“Lachdanan?” she whispered. “So you were trapped down here along with the rest of them. But you can speak… It’s me! Jeanne!”

“Jeanne?” the knight said uncertainly. “But you seem different.”

She looked down at her blood-stained armor and glowing sword and gave a small shrug. “I am cursed much like you,” she admitted, pain evident in her voice. “I did not dare hope that any of the Royal Guard had escaped this fate. How did you manage it?”

“I did not,” Lachdanan said sorrowfully. “I am cursed as surely as the next and I cannot move on.”

“Then you are already dead.” She sheathed her sword, refusing to look at Vanitas or Noé. She trembled ever so slightly but she stood her ground, ready to hear out her departed friend.

“I am, yet you stand before me, still living. How are you cursed?”

“King Leoric spared no one in his madness it seems. The curse has not taken hold as swiftly as the rest of the knights. Perhaps it is because my primary duty was not toward him. Regardless, I’m looking for Prince Luca.”

“I feared that may be the case. This is all Archbishop Lazarus’s fault,” he cried. “He convinced King Leoric to engage in that war, he was the one who took Prince Luca after the king’s death. Oh, these are dark times, Jeanne. I fear you will not find solace on the road ahead.”

She shook her head as if that were the last thing on her mind. It probably was; she had already made several sacrifices. “I will save him. Tell me, what can we do for you? I would not have you stay down here in Hell.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. His voice echoed slightly, as though it came from depths much deeper than merely his helmet. “I have heard a tale of an elixir. It’s supposed to cleanse one’s soul and I believe it might free me of this curse. Please, help me.”

Jeanne was silent for a moment. Vanitas leaned over toward Noé and whispered, “If there is such an elixir, we could all use it.”

And therein was the problem. Noé had no doubt there wouldn’t be enough for all of them. He gripped his staff tightly. This wasn’t fair. He knew Jeanne wouldn’t take it for herself. Vanitas might but Jeanne would insist it be brought to Lachdanan and Noé couldn’t in good conscience argue with that decision. Perhaps if he could at least study the elixir beforehand…

“We’ll find it, don’t worry. We will not leave you here to suffer this fate. Just … give us some time. Do you have any idea where it might be?”

“I’m afraid not,” he admitted. “It is a small hope to be sure but if there is any hope to be had I would take it. I will wait here; I don’t know how long I can hold out against this curse.”

“That goes for most of the people here,” Vanitas said dryly. “We’re not exactly exemplary heroes, are we?”

“Enough, Vanitas,” Jeanne snapped. “Let us be on our way.”

It didn’t take long before Noé was missing the caves, ironically enough. At least he could easily see things back there but this… Everything was dark, every demon seemed to have far-ranged attacks, and they were _swarming_ the place. Logically, he had known the closer they got to Diablo the more demons there would be but he had still managed to underestimate what that actually meant.

Apparently it meant they would be fighting nonstop for hours.

“You know, I’m starting to think this elixir doesn’t exist,” Vanitas finally said after they’d gone through another bout of Hell Knights. “Maybe he’s clutching at straws. His soul is set for damnation, so I wouldn’t blame him.”

“Even if there isn’t any elixir we’re continuing onwards regardless. What harm does it do to keep an eye out for it?”

“I’m starting to miss when you just wanted to make a stop at the hellforge. At least that was easy to locate,” Vanitas grumbled.

“We’re all just feeling tired,” Noé said. “Speaking of, where are we going to set up camp?”

They looked around blearily. The sea of dead bodies was making it difficult to want to stop anywhere.

“Maybe there will be a room we can use,” Jeanne finally said. “Or maybe we can return to town for a time.”

“That seems unwise. We’re finally in the depths of Hell. These demons would actually be talented enough to figure out that portal of yours.”

Noé was forced to agree with Vanitas this time. While he’d been enchanting the portal to keep demons out he doubted his spells would be enough for the likes of these ones. They were far more intelligent than the ones they’d come across previously. It was disheartening; they likely wouldn’t see Tristram again until they defeated Diablo.

He steadfastly refused to think _if_ they defeated Diablo. Even though he was beginning to have some serious doubts as to their effectiveness in that area he didn’t want to give up all hope yet for Jeanne and Vanitas if nothing else.

When they finally cleared out yet another room Noé noticed something glinting strangely in the corner. He bent over to take a better look. It was a potion of some kind.

They entered another large room, blood swathed across it, and soon more demons were rushing them. In the distance, Noé noticed one of the magi chanting. There was a potion shining at his belt and Noé instantly knew it was no ordinary potion.

“I think I might have found it!” Noé cried, gesturing at the magus before unleashing several Elementals. Jeanne leapt out of the way of several succubi, slashing her sword as she did so, unleashing a blast of fire as she did so. She pivoted and promptly slammed her sword through an enormous viper lunging after her. Letting out a wild shriek she propelled herself through the sea of demons until she was upon the magus. She leapt and before he could teleport away her blade rammed through his head, sticking him to the wall. Noé and Vanitas finished off the remaining enemies. Vanitas dodged a couple bolts of lightning and threw a dagger at a particularly stubborn viper and the fight was finally over.

Jeanne sank to her knees and let out a roar. Vanitas and Noé glanced at each other tentatively before rushing over.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” she insisted but there was more blood dribbling down her chin and Noé’s healing spells could only do so much. Even so, she visibly relaxed as his mana washed over her. She stood up and ripped her sword out of the now very dead magus and plucked the potion from his belt. It glowed with a strange iridescence before them. Vanitas let out a low whistle.

Jeanne tilted it this way and that, studying it carefully. “Are you sure this is it? How can you tell?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Noé sighed. “But it’s clearly not a health potion or a mana potion. The color is completely wrong. Now, if I could study it for just a moment—”

“What do you intend to do with it?” she said suspiciously, clutching it firmly to her chest. Noé faltered at the glare she was giving him and took a step back.

“What are you implying?” Vanitas rebutted harshly, his hand tightening around the hilt of his dagger.

“I mean,” she faltered, “it’s just … I could understand the temptation not to return it.”

“I’m not going to do anything to it,” Noé said wearily.

Vanitas shook his head impatiently. “Personally, I want to know why we _should_ bring it to him. We’re not doing all that well ourselves in case you didn’t notice.”

“There’s only enough for one person,” Jeanne hissed. “How would you choose which of us should take it? We don’t even know if it will do anything. You and I have already accepted our fates.”

“That’s enough of that!” Noé shouted. They both jumped and turned wide eyes on him. He rubbed the back of head anxiously, desperately trying to ignore the roaring sound that threatened to take over.

“We will bring it to Lachdanan and that’s final. I just want to see if I can discern any of its properties for future use. Look, what do we have to lose? Either way, Lachdanan gets the elixir and we might learn something that would save you two.”

“Of course. I’m sorry, Noé,” Jeanne murmured, handing the potion to him. He didn’t notice the obvious reluctance behind the gesture, however.

“It’s fine. This place is designed to bring out the worst in mortals and demons alike,” his lips twitched at the acknowledgment of what he was, “so we may as well embrace a bit of arguing. Let’s just not let it get out of hand.”

As he reached his energy out to feel out the elixir and he was struck by how pure it was. Just where did the demons find this? It clearly wasn’t of Hell. If anything it was inspired by the High Heavens. Perhaps they’d stolen it for some unknown reason much like they had with the Sky Rock they’d brought to Griswold. It felt like eons ago now. Still, it was the only thing that could explain its presence here.

He could sense several different herbs in it as well as something unknown. Some kind of metal if he hazarded a guess and not one he had encountered before. Naturally the potion was also infused with a great deal of mana. It was a potent combination. If only he had some idea of what the metal used in it was he might have an idea of how to cure Jeanne at the very least.

“All right, let’s bring it to Lachdanan.” He handed it back to Jeanne who pocketed it uncertainly.

“Did you learn anything?”

“A bit but I’d have to do more research before I could do anything with it.”

“Not much help then, I’d say,” Vanitas sighed in frustration. “Let’s just go. I tire of this place.”

When they returned, Lachdanan was astounded. He held the potion gingerly with both hands, a surprisingly tender gesture for someone who was armed to the teeth and covered in dark armor. He looked up at Jeanne and while Noé couldn’t discern his eyes behind the helmet he could sense the gratitude radiating off of him.

“You are as noble as ever, Jeanne,” he breathed. “Before I drink this I would make sure you are as informed as possible before you continue further.”

“Thank you. There was something you said from before I would like more clarification on. You said Prince Luca was with Archbishop Lazarus. Are you quite certain?”

“I fear it’s all much worse than that,” Lachdanan sighed. “King Leoric was possessed by Diablo, I’m certain of it, but it was Lazarus who held the real power in that relationship. I believe he was in league with Hell from the beginning. If that is the case then it was not King Leoric who failed us but the archbishop. If Diablo wanted to possess the king and failed then perhaps he moved on to the king’s son.” The knight’s voice was low and gravely, filled with regret. Noé glanced at Jeanne who had been stunned into silence.

“Prince Luca … could be possessed by Diablo?”

Noé pleaded with whatever higher power might be out there that that wouldn’t be the case. He wasn’t sure if Jeanne could bear failing a second time. Vanitas looked uneasy as well at the revelation.

“I don’t know it for certain,” Lachdanan admitted, “but I am certain the archbishop’s treachery ran deep. No matter what he has done, you cannot let him live. He is somewhere in these depths and he must be punished for the wrongs he has inflicted on Tristram and all of Sanctuary.”

“I will see it done,” Jeanne whispered. “If he has betrayed us as thoroughly as you say he will not take another breath for as long as I live.”

“I am glad to hear it. You were the strongest of us, Jeanne. If anyone can overcome this curse it is surely you. Thank you.”

“Go in peace, my friend.”

Lachdanan drank deeply from the drought and swiftly went up in holy flames. All that was left was his helmet. Jeanne walked over and picked it up.

“I will wear this in his honor and as the last remaining member of the king’s guard,” she said grimly. “We must find Archbishop Lazarus. This cannot be allowed to continue. We will set up camp for now and then we will continue until none stand before us.”

Neither Vanitas nor Noé broached any complaint or argument at the sudden shift in their mission. Noé was certain when they found Lazarus they would see Diablo soon after. They were getting closer indeed.

He got a fire going and boiled some water over it before handing some over to his companions. He was becoming more and more concerned at the thought of the water going bad, so he refused to just give it to them straight. They took tentative sips.

Noé paced up and down the length of the corridor. They’d cleared the floor thoroughly, so he wasn’t worried about being ambushed but the sounds he was hearing was unbearable.

“You can sit down, Noé,” Vanitas said tiredly. “Standing isn’t going to get us there any swifter than we already are.”

“It’s hard to sleep with … those things looking at us.” He gestured at the heads on pikes before them and spread across the terrain. How had Diablo dragged this many innocent people down here?

“Just pretend they’re not there. I had to do that all the time.”

Noé took one last look before turning back toward Vanitas. “I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.” He took a seat next to him anyway and closed his eyes to block out the grisly imagery.

Jeanne was already asleep somehow. Noé wondered how she’d done it. Perhaps her encounter with Lachdanan had exhausted her; it had certainly left Noé feeling all the more hopeless. He hadn’t thought much of Prince Luca when Jeanne first mentioned him. He’d just assumed they would find him and return him to the throne before all was up but that was extremely unlikely at this point.

He glanced at her sleeping form. She was so much paler than she’d been when he’s met her. Her features were stark in the flickering flames before them. They had been fighting nonstop today; he wouldn’t blame her if she slept far longer than was normal.

 He looked up at the ‘sky’ in an effort to distract himself. It was a dark void that swirled constantly. They would never get out of here, would they?

Vanitas let out a soft tut and brushed some of Noé’s hair behind his ear, startling him slightly. He raised a brow at him. “Come here; you’re not doing all that well yourself, are you?” He drew him close and wrapped his arms about him. Noé let out a weary sigh. Vanitas’s chest was more comfortable than the floor, he had to admit.

“I can … hear things,” Noé admitted quietly. “I don’t know why. Do you?”

“I just hear you and occasionally Vanitas. Like it or not, you’re a creature of Hell. You’re probably more in tune with this place.”

“They’re such ghastly sounds. I don’t think I want to be connected to such a thing,” Noé sighed. “I always told my teacher he had cursed me. He never understood. I was never upset with him but now I wish he had chosen someone else as his successor.”

“Successor?”

“Mm, he said he didn’t have one in Hell, so he found one in Sanctuary.”

“I wonder why,” Vanitas said thoughtfully. “If your teacher were more like Vanitas I would say he wanted you for … certain purposes but it doesn’t sound like he ever harmed you.”

“No, not really.”

“I’m glad. You shouldn’t have to go through the things I did.”

“You shouldn’t have had to either.”

Vanitas let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, still stroking his hair carefully. Noé could sense her presence growing stronger but Vanitas’s was still the dominant aura, thank the light.

“Get some rest, Noé. I’ll take first watch. Don’t forget your potion.”

Noé mumbled something in agreement and swiftly fell into a deep slumber. Anything was better than continuing to mull over what the next day would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left. :0 I had a lot of fun writing this one; I'd say this is my favorite chapter of the bunch so far. Hopefully no one seems terribly OOC. Let me know what you think!


	4. Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes face the ultimate evil after a terrible journey through the darkest depths of the labyrinth.

He woke to screaming.

At first he thought it was just the sound of Hell grown louder once more but soon he realized it came from beside him rather than the echoing sounds of distant pain from before.

When he opened his eyes he realized it was Vanitas. Jeanne was holding him tightly so his flailing wouldn’t grow too violent. It was obvious what was causing the problem: his mark was quickly spreading across him, cracks of light emanating from each fissure. If it hadn’t been causing Vanitas intense pain Noé would have found it beautiful to behold.

Hastily, he moved to Vanitas’s side and crouched beside him. His hands ghosted across his body pouring healing magic into the cracks. It only contained some of the physical damage but it was enough to get Vanitas to quiet and allow his breathing to ease ever so slightly. Jeanne kept him in her arms even so; his gaze was blank and Noé knew he wasn’t seeing anything before him. He was muttering something under his breath in that strange tone of voice Noé now knew belonged to the succubus Vanitas as opposed to the human.

“You’ve gotten terribly close now.”

Noé drew in a deep breath and looked at Jeanne. Her expression was grim and there was finality in her eyes. He knew if Vanitas didn’t return to himself swiftly she may deem it necessary to take care of the situation. He wasn’t sure what he would do if it came to that. He didn’t want to confront Jeanne but he also didn’t want to lose Vanitas.

They’d spent too much time failing to understand this creature. He braced himself for a confrontation and said, “What do you intend to do with Vanitas?”

Jeanne looked up at him warily, clearly unsure if engaging with the demon was a wise course of action.

“Vanitas? You said this before. _I_ am Vanitas.”

“Yes, but he uses the same name.”

For the first time Noé wondered why that was. Vanitas had simply said he’d gotten the name from the book but that evidently wasn’t so. This succubus was also named Vanitas. Why would he refer to himself with a name he surely despised?

“Uses my name?” Vanitas’s eyes rolled to the side, blankly taking in the wall before them. “Strange for him to do that but he always had an odd sense of humor.”

“Answer the question,” Noé said quietly. Vanitas’s eyes rested on him briefly before losing focus once more.

“This boy thinks he can survive without me when he’s only alive thanks to me. Would any other demon have treasured him as I did? He is mine, all my own, but it seems as though he’s gotten attached,” she sneered. “Do not think he is yours; you barely know him. Soon this body will be mine along with his soul. We will be closer than we ever were before. Ironic, considering how fiercely he fought for the opposite.”

“We could leave you here, slow the process,” Jeanne stated.

“It would change nothing. Do what you like. You think I intend to torment him but this is the only way to save him. He cannot survive without me.”

“That’s absurd. Vanitas doesn’t need you,” Noé whispered angrily.

“You think you can help him? You barely know your own power. No, you would never survive Hell proper.”

“We’ve done well enough so far,” Jeanne said.

“There is more to Hell than this small area. Diablo’s powers are not yet fully unleashed but once they are ‘Vanitas’ will need me as he always has.”

Before Noé could offer up another protest the mark of possession’s light began to dim and Vanitas’s eyes rolled up into the back his head. He slumped against Jeanne like some kind of discarded ragdoll. Noé’s heart clenched tightly as he took in his gaunt features. He looked abandoned even as he was surrounded by his friends.

Noé carefully took him in his arms and brushed his hair away from his face. There were dark rings under his eyes and he felt thinner than he had only a day or two ago. He was fading away all too swiftly.

He started slightly when Jeanne rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to meet her eyes but she was looking away, down the corridor. She was every bit the warrior; she kept watch no matter what the circumstances were.

“Could we wait a moment?” Noé said softly, cradling Vanitas’s unconscious form close. “I don’t want to try waking him just yet.”

Jeanne gave a curt nod before saying, “I’m going to scout the perimeter. We should be clear for the moment but it won’t do to let our guard down for long.”

“Of course.”

He didn’t want her to leave, though. Not even for a moment. He almost asked for her to stay but when he saw the way her hand trembled as she walked away he knew this was all that was keeping her together. She couldn’t allow herself to rest for long.

He felt terribly lonely sitting there in the dark with only Vanitas’s unsteady breathing filling in the silence. Noé had often been left alone by his teacher but he’d managed by visiting his friends in the town square or by attempting household tasks. Now he had nothing to do whatsoever to distract him from the pressing issue of Vanitas’s possession.

He couldn’t stop it. He could feel the other Vanitas’s essence radiating off of him, intertwining with his own spiritual energy. It left his skin tingling uncomfortably but he refused to let Vanitas out of his arms no matter the discomfort.

Noé wasn’t sure how long he sat there before Vanitas finally stirred slightly. Noé instantly grew more alert, ready to assess anything that might be wrong.

Vanitas let out a low groan. He clutched at his head with a shaky hand before finally taking in a deep breath.

“What happened?” he said lowly, his eyes clenched shut with pain. Noé wordlessly summoned another healing spell and gently ran it over him once more. Vanitas’s breathing steadied and he finally met his gaze. Whatever he saw there must not have reassured him because his eyes went wide with fear.

 “It was her, wasn’t it?”

Noé didn’t know what to say, so he merely nodded. Vanitas let out a sigh before carefully gripping the back of Noé’s head and bringing him closer until their foreheads touched.

“You look far too distraught,” he murmured.

“Vanitas…”

“I don’t want that from you,” he said, a little more firmly. “Just let the matter be if there’s nothing to be done. If she comes, kill me. I will not let her have her way after fighting her for so long.”

_I can’t do that._ But he couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t refuse this last wish.

Noé closed his eyes tightly and looked away.

“It will be done.” Noé looked up sharply. Vanitas followed his line of sight more slowly. It was Jeanne. She must have finished her sweep of the area. There was sorrow in her eyes but also a terrible understanding that Noé hated.

“Good thing you’re around,” Vanitas murmured. “This guy is just too soft for some things.”

Jeanne didn’t agree or disagree and they all fell into an uneasy silence with Jeanne standing guard and Noé still holding Vanitas a little more tightly than was necessary. Vanitas raised his sleeves and removed his thick, leather gloves to inspect the mark more closely.  It was glowing softly and while he didn’t remove his tunic it was evident to Noé it had spread over most of his body by the subtle outline underneath his leather armor and the shifts in his scent. His shoulders drooped as he reached the same conclusion Jeanne surely had: he likely wouldn’t make it to Diablo.

“Come on. We just have a little ways left,” Jeanne eventually said. “I didn’t see anything unusual on this floor, so we may as well continue. Can you still walk?”

Vanitas let out a huff of annoyance at the question but when he went to stand it was with hesitation. He was clutching at his stomach as if something had struck him there. Noé carefully linked his arms under Vanitas’s to assist him.

“I’m fine,” Vanitas said at Jeanne’s skeptical look. “I just feel heavier. That’s all.”

As they continued down a staircase the roaring in Noé’s ears became terribly loud but it was intermixed with chuckling, sighs, and moans of pain. So this was Hell: all the warped emotions of Sanctuary on display in one, singular dimension.

He kept an arm wrapped about Vanitas’s waist. It was hardly conducive to fighting but Vanitas was leaning against him heavily, silently granting him permission. What worried Noé most was that he didn’t protest the help. He looked worn and frayed at the edges. He glanced knowingly up at Noé as they finished descending. Jeanne let out a thoughtful hum at what was before them.

There was an enormous inverted pentagram engraved into the floor. It stood out in stark contrast to all the uneven stone flooring. There was skittering in the darkness and Noé’s eyes picked up a few vipers and Hell Knights patrolling the area.

“I think this should be the final floor,” Jeanne whispered quietly. “I can sense Diablo’s presence clearly now. What about you?”

Noé was quiet for a moment. He didn’t want to admit that the sounds of Hell were becoming entirely too familiar to him and it was making it difficult to judge much of anything. Vanitas looked up at him questioningly and Noé gave him a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“I think so,” Noé said hesitantly. “I can hear a deep rumble. How can you tell it’s Diablo?”

Jeanne studied him with an odd look in her eyes before saying, “I can feel a crawling sensation all throughout me. I can hear something whispering in my ear. I could even when we first entered the cathedral but it’s louder now. I can almost pick out actual words.”

Vanitas leaned against him a little more heavily as he let out a heavy sigh. “Why didn’t you say something back then?” he grumbled. “Having the Dark Lord whisper in your ear is noteworthy to say the least.”

“I thought you could all hear it,” she admitted somberly.

“Fantastic,” Vanitas managed bitterly. “The two of you are merging with this place faster and faster and I won’t exist soon. We’re doing great.”

“Don’t say that,” Noé whispered with a lump in his throat. “We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

Vanitas stared at him disbelievingly. Even Jeanne seemed pained at his words. He looked away, unable to meet their gazes any longer. He knew he sounded like a fool but what else was he supposed to say? He cared for them both terribly; he didn’t want to think of a world without them in it. Was he supposed to simply give up now they were so near the end?

“Do you think you’ll be able to fight?” Noé finally said, his words directed at Vanitas who he still held tightly at his side. Vanitas winced before drawing himself fully upright. Noé reluctantly let go, though he held his arm out just in case. Vanitas drew his bow and notched an arrow.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he said wryly before unleashing an arrow directly into a viper several meters away.

Noé let out a low curse as the beast let out a loud gurgling sound and fell. The roar in his ears became a cacophony as it was joined with the battle cries of several Hell Knights.

Jeanne grimaced but immediately dashed out into the thick of it, unleashing a battle cry to match those of her former comrades. Noé reluctantly drew his staff and summoned Elemental. He tried to ignore as the figure wreathed in fire seemed stronger the closer they got to Diablo. He ruled over fire and lightning and Noé was using one of his primary elements.

Vanitas darted to the far corner of the room, unleashing arrows as he went. Even though he was far away Noé could make out how pale his features were and how heavily he was breathing. Noé tossed a healing spell his way between summoning several fireballs. Vanitas gave a nod of gratitude before refocusing his efforts.

Jeanne spun in a wide circle, unleashing a ring of fire as she did so, her enchanted sword reacting smoothly with her movements. Several Hell Knights let out an unholy screech before they collapsed to dust.

A viper approached her from behind, its mouth gaping wide in anticipation. Noé let out a shout of warning but without even a moment of hesitation she withdrew her sword from where she’d had it impaled in a Hell Knight mere moments before and pivoted gracefully, slicing it through. There was an explosion of blood and then she was dashing across the room toward several succubi who had taken position at one of the exit points and were hurling orbs of magic at them.

Vanitas, having taken care of his section of the room already, maneuvered himself so they were within his line of sight and drew several arrows at them. Noé moved to his side and summoned Guardian. Vanitas gave him a quick glance over, perhaps to ensure he hadn’t been injured, before turning back towards their enemies.

Jeanne made quick work of the succubi with their help. Noé cast a healing spell on her just to be on the safe side before she turned toward yet another large group of Hell Knights.

She smashed through them, not with ease exactly, but with a determination that was formidable. Their cries echoed throughout the room before everything finally fell silent.

Jeanne was breathing heavily but she waived them over all the same and quickly handed out instructions on where to go.

Noé and Vanitas went down one corridor while she went down the other to make sure they’d really cleared the area. They swiftly bumped back into each other as it simply looped around.

“Good. It’s taken care of,” Jeanne said. “I don’t think we’ll find anymore demons on this floor.”

Just as she said that a large red portal opened up at the head of the inverted pentagram. Its crimson glow infused the room with light ominously. Noé looked at Jeanne uneasily; none of them had summoned that.

But no portal opened itself, at least none that Noé had ever heard of. It meant that someone was extending an invitation and, given the malicious intent radiating off of it in waves, it wasn’t a friendly one.

 No doubt whoever was on the other side wished to see them dead.

“Do you see that?” Jeanne whispered.

“I see it,” Vanitas grumbled irritably. “It’s a little hard to ignore. It’s practically the only light source in this dismal place.”

He gripped tightly at Noé’s arm. He wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of support or if it was to keep him from collapsing. Not caring much either way Noé took his arm and slung it about his shoulder, gripping his wrist tightly. Vanitas gave him a halfhearted glare but didn’t say anything otherwise before turning back towards Jeanne who was waiting patiently.

“At any rate, there aren’t any more staircases. We should go through if only because there’s nowhere else to go.”

That certainly put things in perspective for Noé. They were trapped. Oh, they _could_ return to Tristram but what horrors would come for the ride? They’d made their presence entirely too well known.

“Where do you think it leads?” Noé asked. His skin was crawling and the sensation only worsened the longer he stared into it.

“I don’t think it leads to Diablo,” Jeanne said but she sounded unsure. “I don’t hear him any more loudly than I was already.”

Noé pointedly ignored how disturbing that was with a great force of will.

“It’s obviously not Diablo,” Vanitas sighed, rolling his eyes in frustration. “He’s never this direct. Why bother when you can manipulate the masses to do the work for you? No, if I had to hazard a guess I would say this is your lost archbishop.”

 “Archbishop Lazarus,” Jeanne said grimly. “Yes, I would like to settle things with him once and for all.”

“At least one of us can manage some kind of enthusiasm down here.” Vanitas eyed Noé with something akin to concern and he realized he was holding onto him far more tightly than was necessary. He mumbled an apology as he loosened his grip, eyes never straying from the portal beckoning before them.

Noé wasn’t entirely sure what Vanitas was getting at. So what if he wasn’t jumping for joy at the thought of finding Lazarus? He was a traitor, certainly, but killing him seemed unlikely to help Vanitas and it wasn’t bringing them any closer to Diablo.

“Let’s go through,” Jeanne said, seeming not to take notice of the silent exchange between them. She’d grown far more distant down here, Noé realized. She was barely managing any conversation outside of orders. Combined with her admittance that her own curse was making a disturbing amount of progress and Noé wondered if perhaps he should step up as leader.

_I’m a demon,_ he reminded himself gloomily, _and surely the least qualified to be making any decisions._

If Diablo was manipulating him he was likely doing a good job of it; Noé could barely tell what was normal anymore.

“We may as well. We’re certainly well beyond avoiding danger at this point,” Vanitas said to Jeanne grimly. Noé said nothing at all. His skin hurt and he wanted to rest but that was unlikely to occur. He wondered if he would ever get to sleep ever again. Likely not, unless he died. The prospect didn’t sound as terrifying as it used to. Surely death was more peaceful than going in mental circles with himself.

Together they approached the burning red portal. Jeanne walked in without a moment’s hesitation but Vanitas stopped, forcing Noé to stop as well. He bit his lip, some unknown frustration marring his features before he finally looked up at Noé in consternation.

“We need to get going. Jeanne already went through,” Noé said, not at all wanting to be confronted with another potential issue.

“What are you thinking? We’re about to take care of one of the biggest problems down here. I may not be invested in your town’s politics but I thought you would care more one way or another.”

Vanitas removed his arm from where Noé had slung it over his shoulder and took a step back, a challenge in his pose as he crossed his arms. No, Noé really didn’t want to deal with this right now. What was the point?

“It’s too many bad things all running together into one long stream of evil. I’m not sure I can care anymore,” Noé admitted. He didn’t say it but the only thing he really cared about was how Vanitas was lit up like the bold moon at night. They both knew the possession was well under way and they were no closer to solving it yet Vanitas acted as though he’d made peace with the fact. Noé refused to do the same.

“That’s not the Noé I know,” Vanitas said with a soft smile. “Aren’t you the optimistic one?”

“You barely know me,” Noé mumbled. He cringed at the way Vanitas flinched away from him at that, his eyes widening in surprise. It may have been true a true statement, they’d only known each other for a week at best, but Vanitas had bared his heart to him on several occasions in that time and here Noé was stomping all over it.

“I’m sorry…”

Vanitas turned away sharply. “Let’s just follow Jeanne. We can talk about it later.”

_There might not be a later,_ Noé despaired. _There might soon be nothing left and I’m hurting you even as you’re dying._

It was the first time he’d admitted it to himself. He tried to reach for Vanitas as they stepped through the portal but he shrugged him off.

The portal itself felt just as vile as it looked. The crawling on Noé’s skin became a full-fledged burning. It was as if he was being scorched in malice and he was filled with a lingering fear even when he appeared on the other side. He hastily made sure Vanitas was still with him.

He was crouched on the ground, breathing heavily. The mark was glowing brighter still but it hadn’t spread at least. Vanitas glared at him when he moved to help and, reluctantly, Noé allowed him his space.

In an effort to distract himself he took in his surroundings. He quickly spotted Jeanne before them. She was standing rigidly with a stillness he’d never seen before. Her eyes were shadowed. Noé squirmed uneasily. Why wasn’t she saying anything?

He looked back at Vanitas who was staring at Jeanne with a grim sort of understanding. Noé was struck by the sudden desire to send them both back to Tristram and never let them step foot in the cathedral ever again. He was having a difficult enough time wrapping his head around Vanitas’s inevitable transformation; he couldn’t bear to contemplate Jeanne’s as well.

The scenery wasn’t of Hell at least. Wherever Lazarus had built his base it clearly was on one of the higher levels of the labyrinth. Perhaps even an evil man feared the depths of Hell itself. He’d chosen to surround himself by the cool stone of the church and Noé felt pure rage for a moment. What right did this traitor have to take comfort from anything godly? He was doing the devil’s work but he still surrounded himself with holy relics?

“This archbishop of yours has quite an ironic sense of taste,” Vanitas forced out as if hearing Noé’s own thoughts. He gingerly stood back up, bracing himself against a nearby wall. Jeanne blinked in surprise as if she was only just now realizing they were there. For a split second she looked confused but it swiftly transformed into anger.

“This man will pay,” Jeanne growled.

“What, don’t like what he’s done with the place?” Vanitas bit back. “This is hardly the worst thing we’ve seen. So what if he likes some stained glass and a couple of crosses, hm?”

“You don’t understand,” Jeanne cried. “You grew up surrounded by the most unholy! To see what is meant to be pure treated in this way is simply—”

“Sacrilegious? I imagine that’s the point.”

“Perhaps Archbishop Lazarus does not realize the depths of his crime,” Noé said quietly in an attempt to make them stop. Jeanne and Vanitas gave him twin looks of disbelief.

“I don’t mean he’s an innocent,” Noé said, flustered. “I simply mean, who actually thinks they’re evil? He has done evil things but he has probably found some way of justifying it to himself. I guess that’s what real evil is,” Noé trailed off, “it’s just … thinking you know what’s best.”

“Noé,” Vanitas said with an air of someone who was explaining something to a very young child, “ _everyone_ thinks they know what’s best. Not everyone is evil.”

“Archbishop Lazarus surely knew he was betraying the light,” Jeanne grumbled. “I refuse to believe he had any other motive in that head of his. He longed for power and authority. He got both with the church and it still wasn’t enough, so he sided with Diablo, with a prime evil, in pursuit of more. That is what all evil men do. They are never satisfied; they always want more. _That_ is the heart of evil.”

“Is there really a ‘heart of evil?’” Vanitas said wearily. “This is philosophy. Evil comes in many forms and at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter _why_ Archbishop decided to murder hundreds. The point is he _did_ and we’re here to stop it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Noé said tiredly. “I guess I just want to make sense of it all. I’m tired of seeing so much desecration and all of this just seems so pointless. Why do this to the church?”

“I can agree with that much,” Jeanne sighed. “This is a strange place regardless. It looks far removed from Diablo’s lair and yet I can sense everything with much greater clarity here.”

“A pocket dimension, perhaps?” Vanitas mused. At their looks of confusion he rolled his eyes. “I mentioned this to you before: demons have their own domains in Hell where they can manipulate the landscape. I suspect that is what your archbishop has done here. I suspect we’re much further down in Hell than we were before, all visual evidence to the contrary.”

“But the archbishop is no demon,” Jeanne said slowly. “Why would he have his own domain?”

“Because there are humans in Hell,” Vanitas reiterated, “and they are demons in deed and in name if not biology. Your archbishop is a powerful man who sided with Diablo. It’s no wonder he has his own domain.”

“I see,” she said. “You mean they haven’t been cursed like me. They simply chose to be there.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t understand that,” Jeanne said. “Who would choose to be like this?” It was said softly, to herself, and Noé’s heart hurt for her in that moment even as he felt remorse. He’d never even been given a choice. He couldn’t even remember the day his teacher always spoke of so fondly where his parents had died and he’d been changed.

“Archbishop Lazarus is surely close,” Jeanne said, shaking her head slightly as if to clear her mind. “We need to continue.”

Noé steeled himself for the battle to come, refusing to contemplate his teacher’s strange perspective any further. They’d all become far too distracted. Perhaps, despite the ominous feeling settling in around them, the familiar surroundings were still enough to lull them into a false sense of security.

Noé couldn’t help but enjoy the tapestries that lined the walls—they were lavishly embroidered and bold in their colors. As they walked Vanitas drew close for a moment. He walked uncertainly beside him for a time before reaching out to give his hand a squeeze. Before Noé could say anything Vanitas hastened to walk beside Jeanne instead.

He held his hand close to his chest. Had he been forgiven?

It quickly became apparent that Lazarus had no intention of making it easy to access the inner sanctum of his lair. Noé had a hard time thinking of it as anything other than a lair now that he’d gotten over his initial horror at the thought of someone using the church in such a perverse way.

He had a sinking feeling that when they found him there would only be more horrors revealed and they would be more aghast than ever. He hoped Vanitas could steady him if it came to that. He wasn’t exactly a chipper companion but his general demeanor had yet to change unlike Noé’s own. He wasn’t put off by the strange things they were witnessing. He could be considered heartless, Noé supposed, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Vanitas cared a great deal but he’d grown up in a place like this, had already seen these horrors tenfold. He’d spoken of it so little, feigned indifference toward it so often that Noé almost forgot he’d gone through a terrible ordeal and was still returning all the same.

_He returned to find a cure, not to kill Diablo,_ Noé thought grimly. _I wonder why he stays when he no longer hopes for a solution?_

In order to find Lazarus’s lair they had to maneuver the entire outer corridor, which turned out to be, essentially, a box. At each corner they had to defeat some guards who, strangely, were locked away, and then activate a switch on the floor. It was far too simple and Noé wondered what Lazarus was playing at. Perhaps he didn’t really care if they found him. It wasn’t encouraging; if he wasn’t putting up much resistance he must have a high estimation of his own abilities and _that_ would mean the upcoming battle would be a difficult one. Noé was becoming tired of difficult battles with insurmountable odds.

When at last they had triggered the final switch they were transported to an inner room. It took Noé a second to realize what had happened it had been so sudden but when he looked behind him his blood ran cold. Before them was certainly Archbishop Lazarus, Noé recognized him from when he had attended church, and he was standing before a dark altar with a body stretched out upon it. Noé couldn’t make out the features but whoever it was was probably male and quite young and very, very dead judging by the blood seeping off the edges of the altar.

“Ah, so you finally make it to me,” Lazarus sighed, flicking blood off the dagger he held lazily. He looked exactly as Noé remembered which made it all the more disturbing. He still wore the robes of the church, pristine in appearance, and he bore himself with purpose. It was a terrible parody of how he used to give sermons. How long had he been planning this?

Noé felt sick. He couldn’t bear to look at him and he was suddenly very glad Jeanne was taking the initiative in this confrontation.

Quietly, Vanitas slipped an arm about him, drawing him close. He whispered something in his ear but Noé couldn’t make it out. Even so, he took comfort in his closeness and tried to steady the trembling of his hands. He needed to focus, have confidence in his abilities. They were so close now.

Jeanne was saying something. He needed to listen. Noé suspected it was probably an accusation but his eyes kept straying toward the corpse on the altar. Whoever it was his skin was graying and his eyes seemed to be staring straight through his soul.

There was hot breath against his ear again. Vanitas. He was saying something. It seemed urgent judging by the way he clutched at him.

That boy didn’t deserve to die like that. He was supposed to be outside, running around with other children, maybe learning a trade—

“Noé!” Vanitas hissed.

Noé drew in a sharp breath and finally turned to look at him. His vision was blurry though and he only realized why when Vanitas hesitantly raised a hand to wipe tears away.

“I’m sorry,” Noé said. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for.

“Just focus for now,” Vanitas murmured. “We’re surrounded.”

Vanitas was correct. While Jeanne and Lazarus debated several demons had slinked from the shadows to surround them. Vanitas was eyeing them cautiously but he wasn’t drawing any arrows yet. Noé refocused his attention on Lazarus, carefully avoiding the corpse before him. He didn’t have time to mourn his fate.

“It hardly matters what my crimes are against the town of Tristram. Do you expect me to beg forgiveness? I shall do no such thing and I’m a little disappointed you’ve made an effort.”

“I did not want to,” Jeanne said stoically. “But taking you before Tristram to be judged would have been just. They deserve to see the one who has harmed them so greatly punished.”

Lazarus looked unimpressed. “I sincerely doubt you will defeat me. I hold more magic in my pinkie than you lot do combined.”

“We do not need magic to defeat you,” Jeanne growled. “I will do it myself.”

“Oh, good. I wanted to sit this one out anyway,” Vanitas said only a little sarcastically. Now he slowly reached for an arrow and Noé took that as his cue to silently ready a spell. Whatever negotiations Jeanne had been attempting they clearly weren’t going through. It was time to do battle once more. Noé wished it wasn’t in such close quarters; the amount of succubi and magi surrounding them was ominous.

“Silence, Vanitas,” Jeanne said without batting an eye. “Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?” she continued, turning her attention back to Lazarus. Noé wondered how she was managing a conversation with this monster. Then he wondered why she was bothering but he was forced to admit that he wanted answers as well. Between the three of them he imagined it was only Vanitas who didn’t care one way or another.

“Of course I know what I’ve done,” Lazarus sneered. “You think I bled this boy dry by accident? Hardly.”

“Very well. What have you done to Prince Luca?” Jeanne demanded her voice tense and brittle.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters! Tell me!”

“He is serving a greater purpose,” Lazarus said nonchalantly. “The Dark Lord needed a host and he was strong. Ah, but the look on your face tells me you already knew this. Why bother asking in that case?”

“I—I’d hoped—”

“You wanted to be wrong? How pitiful.”

“It’s not pitiful.” It was Vanitas who said this. Jeanne and Noé looked over at him with obvious shock.

“She’s doing more than you’ve ever done, of that I have no doubt. You’re nothing more than a leech who craves Diablo’s attention because he has nothing else to call his own.”

Lazarus turned white with fury. “You make a bold assumption of me, boy, especially for one who will not be with us for much longer.”

“You intend to kill me? Get in line.”

“As entertaining as that would be, no. I imagine Lady Vanitas has enough intentions for you as is. She loves you terribly and yet you shirk her regardless, running about Hell like a lost puppy, desperately trying to find the light of day. Have you managed it? From where I stand you look like you’re falling apart, so don’t talk to me of having nothing to call my own. You are nothing but a vessel now.”

Vanitas shook, his eyes shadowed. Lazarus wasn’t the only one enraged it seemed.

“Enough of this. How do I free Prince Luca?” Jeanne shouted. “You will answer to me _now._ ”

Lazarus plunged the dagger back into the body of the corpse before him furiously. Noé flinched at the blood that splattered across his face. Jeanne let out a low growl of anger as she readied her sword. Lazarus grasped his staff from where it was leaning on the wall and promptly disappeared. The demons that had been lurking in the shadows were hidden no longer. It was a great horde, far larger than Noé had seen initially. Noé heard Vanitas draw in a sharp breath and saw Jeanne tighten her grip on her sword.

“It’s a shame; I won’t be able to do this myself but I suppose it will be entertaining to see you lot torn to pieces,” Lazarus’s disembodied voice said.

And with that the battle began. Numerous succubi were hurling bolts of energy across the room and Noé thought it said something about Lazarus that this was his choice in guard. There were also several magi hurling all manner of spells at them. There were so many sparks and explosions that Noé quickly lost track of who was where. Distantly he could hear Jeanne’s battle cry and the whiz of arrows piercing the gloom but he couldn’t _see_ any of it. Frustrated, he summoned several Guardians and unleashed a circle of fire around him, so he would at least be a little more protected. He was frustrated that he couldn’t place Mana Shield on Vanitas or Jeanne. He should have done it before battle began. Why had he allowed himself to be so distracted?

Unbeknownst to him a single succubus had managed to slip behind him before he’d set up his ring of fire. He suddenly found his eyes covered by warm, supple hands. He let out a cry of surprise but just as he tried to lunge away everything went silent. All the noise and chaos drifted away and he collapsed flat on his back surrounded by the warm scent of honey and wildflowers.

His heart was racing. What was going on? Why was he looking up at a clear, blue sky filled with the softest looking clouds he’d ever seen? Surely that wasn’t right, he’d just been--

_You don’t need to be suffering like this,_ a sweet voice murmured into his ear. Immediately he began to relax against his will. There was something terribly reassuring about that voice and all he wanted to do was rest…

_I’ll take the pain away. Just lie back and let me take care of you…_

Noé took in a shuddering breath and a heavy weight settled on him. He couldn’t quite make out the figure but he didn’t feel like he was in danger exactly. He tried to focus but he couldn’t quite manage it but every other sensation was so pleasant in stark contrast to… What had been doing before? Why did he feel as though he’d completely forgotten what the outdoors looked like?

_It’s all right. Take a deep breath; let it out, in, and back out…_

“S-stop,” Noé barely managed. No, this was wrong. He wasn’t sure why but he knew he was supposed to be doing something and this surely wasn’t it. But she didn’t stop and he could suddenly make out the figure that had settled atop him. For a brief moment she looked as all succubi did with soft, rounded features, a distinctly feminine form, and sharp, leathery wings but the visage swiftly faded away to that of Vanitas with his long hair falling in front of him and Noé wondered if he’d really seen her at all. It made far more sense for Vanitas to be here with him. He gazed down at Noé appraisingly. He was dressed in a fine tunic, much finer than the one Noé remembered buying him, but it suited him well with its vibrant blues and silvers.

“We should come out here more often,” Vanitas said. It was definitely his voice and suddenly Noé wondered what he’d been doing mere moments earlier. Hadn’t there been a woman? Wasn’t there something he was supposed to be doing right now?

“Yes,” Noé said haltingly. He would like to come to this place more often, he couldn’t deny that. It was lovely and it smelled delightful. It was so much better than…

What? What did he want to compare it to?

“You look tired,” Vanitas said sympathetically, leaning forward so that their faces were only inches apart. “I thought I told you to get a good night’s sleep?”

“It … hasn’t been easy lately?” He wasn’t sure why he said it as a question. He was going a little cross-eyed with Vanitas so close.

Vanitas gave a gentle tutting sound before kissing him warmly once and then twice, and then he was kissing him all over and Noé was entirely overwhelmed. Something was wrong but he didn’t know what and why should anything be wrong? They were together in a beautiful environment and he should be happy. Why wasn’t he happy?

 “Vanitas—”

“Hush.”

It was spoken sharply and suddenly his side burst with sharp pain. Noé let out a grunt of pain and confusion.

“I find it strange,” Vanitas whispered against his ear, “that you refuse us so soundly. You belong here; you’re one of _us._ I shouldn’t have to convince you of this. All of this could be yours; you don’t need to long for happier days. You could just make them yourself.”

He pressed closer and the pain in Noé’s side exploded once more; he could barely think straight. It was like someone had hit him with a bolt of lightning. 

“Wait, Vanitas, something is—”This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be suffering in a place like this. But Vanitas was still acting so tenderly. Noé reached for him shakily. Hadn’t he heard him?

And suddenly it all started to dissolve. The blue skies became cold stone, the flowers faded to a sea of fallen demons, and above him Vanitas let out a cry of rage, his face morphing back to that of the succubus. Noé let out a choking sound as the reality of his situation came rushing back _(he was surrounded by death; he’d probably never see another blue sky ever again--)_ and he realized the stabbing pain in his side was, in fact, an actual flesh wound.

The real Vanitas was standing furiously above them both, his bow pointed directly at the succubus who had a distinct arrow sticking out of her chest. She glared up at him but before she could summon her magic Vanitas released another arrow followed by another and another and—

Her body collapsed directly atop Noé’s own in a parody of an embrace. He felt her final breath exhale against his neck.

Dizziness overwhelmed him followed swiftly by nausea. No doubt the blood loss was starting to affect him and the succubus’s full weight was pressed against his injury. He gingerly tilted his head about to see what was going on. Jeanne was still clearing a path through swathes of succubi and magi, hell bent on tearing Lazarus to pieces. It offered him dark comfort to see she was doing a good job of it, her enchanted sword slicing and charring enemies in turn.

Noé looked back up to see Vanitas was breathing heavily, his bow still pointed at the succubus as if he expected her to resurrect herself and give it all another go.

“Vanitas,” Noé said weakly, “if you could get her off of me that would be helpful.”

Vanitas blinked in surprise and Noé wondered if he’d forgotten he was there entirely. Distantly Noé thought that was a little unfair seeing as he’d put some effort into rescuing him in the first place.

“Right, right,” Vanitas mumbled, hastily moving the body off of his own. Noé let out a soft groan before pulling at his mana reserves and carefully releasing a healing spell. It was so much harder to heal his own injuries. It required him to be able to focus through the pain well enough to pinpoint where the injury was located and as such took a great deal more effort.

It was difficult but he slowly began to feel the effects of his own spell as his muscles stitched themselves back together and the pain eased. He could still feel a bit of tightness there but that would pass eventually. Some things simply took time.

When he’d finally accomplished it Vanitas pulled him upright. He reached for Noé’s side, gingerly prodding at it to make sure nothing was wrong. Noé let him; he could see the anger and fear marring his face.

Thankfully, Jeanne and Vanitas had thinned the ranks of Lazarus’s minions to a considerable degree while he’d been out but even so Noé worried if they didn’t hurry Jeanne would eventually be overwhelmed. Just as he was about to voice this concern to Vanitas he was interrupted.

“What did she show you?” he demanded. His hand was still resting at Noé’s side and he was flooded with guilt. He had been taken in so _easily._

But he couldn’t lie to him. Not about this.

“You,” Noé said quietly, turning away to summon Guardian to assist Jeanne. She almost appeared to be dancing she was so light on her feet during battle. It was alarming how much quicker she was now that they were so near Diablo. How far into her transformation as a Hell Knight was she? Still, he was forced to admit that it didn’t look like she needed all that much help.

His attention was drawn back to Vanitas when he let out a loud cry of anger before unleashing several arrows directly into several demons several feet meters away. He threw a dagger into the next one that came too close, his anger seeming far from spent.

“That’s _always_ what succubi do,” Vanitas snarled suddenly, rounding on Noé. “They show you what you desire most and convince you that you actually have it! It’s what she used to do to me all the time. It’s why it took so long to get my freedom,” the word was punctuated with an arrow going through a magi’s head, “and _now_ they’re doing the same thing to you and they’re using _me_ as the lie? I will purge Hell of every one of these infernal occupants and then…” he trailed off, apparently too furious to formulate words. Hesitantly, Noé extended his hand and rested it gently on Vanitas’s shoulder.

Apparently, that was the last straw. Vanitas hurled his bow down angrily and yanked Noé toward him. Before he could offer a single protest Vanitas shoved him roughly against the nearest wall and locked him in a searing kiss. Noé let out a muffled exclamation.

“This is me,” he whispered as he drew away slightly. His hands gripped the silver strands of Noé’s hair tightly, dragging his head down to meet his eyes. “Don’t you dare forget this is _me.”_

Noé stared at him, mouth ajar. They stayed like that, breathing in each other’s air, before Vanitas turned away shamefacedly.

“Let’s go help Jeanne…”

Right, they were still in the middle of battle and Vanitas had just… Noé wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Disconcerted, Noé pushed himself away from the wall and resumed casting his spells though they lacked some of their usual effectiveness. Thankfully, Guardian had been faithfully assisting Jeanne and she looked none the worse for wear.

Vanitas picked his bow back up, obviously trying not to make eye contact with Noé. His arms were trembling and the mark of possession was glowing far too brightly. Noé eyed him warily, wondering when they’d ever have a chance to discuss any of it.

The battle was still intense even if the majority of the demons had already been dealt with. Lazarus had joined the fray at last, his face contorted with fury. He’d clearly expected his servants to take care of them and was far from ecstatic at having to deal with it himself. Jeanne let out a wicked laugh when she spotted him and threw one of the magi before her across the room in her haste to slay him.

Noé and Vanitas cleared the rest of the demons away and Jeanne rammed her sword into Lazarus’s shoulder before he had a chance to disappear once more. He let out a high-pitched cry of pain. Jeanne dug the sword in deeper, not giving him a chance to formulate any kind of plan. Noé and Vanitas ran to her side.

Lazarus’s face was white with pain and Noé almost felt pity for him. At one point, surely, he had been a decent man before he’d given himself to the darkness.

Noé glanced at the altar once more, reminding himself of why they could not spare this human who was a fouler demon than many of the ones they’d fought earlier.

“I’m giving you one last chance to tell me how to save Prince Luca,” she said, her tone unnervingly calm. She was a lioness bearing down on her prey and she wasn’t about to let it get away this time.

“Never,” he hissed. Without another word she pulled her sword out only to bring it down with alarming speed, slicing through his neck. The force of it sent his head flying into the opposite wall. She sheathed her sword and turned toward the boy on the altar.

“I’m sorry we came too late,” she whispered. She raised a hand and gently lowered his eyelids so that he wouldn’t continue to stare emptily into the distance. Her gentleness now was in stark contrast to the violence she’d just displayed and Noé felt dizzy at the shift.

They were all silent for a moment before Jeanne turned toward them sharply.

“What happened back there?” she demanded.

Noé shifted awkwardly before admitting, “I was taken in by a succubus.”

The vision had felt so real before the pain had started. For a brief moment he’d truly believed he and Vanitas were spending a quiet afternoon in some unknown field, just the two of them. It had hurt to have it taken away so swiftly. It was made worse by Vanitas’s very real rage and he couldn’t tell if it was directed at him, the succubus, or something else.

“I see,” Jeanne said quietly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“I took care of it,” Vanitas said darkly.

Jeanne nodded before a thoughtful look passed over her face.

“You know, there are several books here.”

It was true. Noé hadn’t taken much notice of them before. He’d been far too horrified by everything else in the room, but there was still a substantial amount that were largely unmarred by the battle that had taken place.

“Archbishop Lazarus was an evil man,” she continued, “but it seems likely he would have texts on magic. Perhaps there will be something here that can help Vanitas.”

Noé perked up immediately at that. He’d all but given up on finding anything useful but if there was even the slightest clue in one of these texts then perhaps something could still be done.

Vanitas eyed the books grimly. He said nothing but it was apparent what his opinion on the likelihood of there being anything useful was. They would just have to prove him wrong; Vanitas wasn’t going to _die._ It was absurd; Noé couldn’t believe he’d entertained the thought even momentarily in the past.

“You want to set up camp here, I take it,” Vanitas finally said as Noé rushed to the bookcase. “This is a waste of time and you know it.”

“Perhaps, but would you really take that hope away from Noé?”

Noé steadfastly tried to tune their conversation out but it was impossible even as he flipped through a book that looked promising.

“I would have nothing ill happen to Noé,” Vanitas said quietly. “But there is a time and place for hope. His is misplaced. Jeanne…”

He could hear the rustling of clothes. He took a quick peek behind him to see what they were up to. Vanitas had drawn Jeanne away to the far corner of the room and he stood unusually close to her. Noé quickly turned his attention back to the book but he strained his ears so he might hear what they were talking about.

“I suspect I know what you’re planning,” Vanitas whispered. “You know how unlikely that is to succeed?”

Jeanne didn’t say anything for a long moment and then, “What else can I do? There is precious little known of the Horadrim and they were the ones who sealed Diablo and his brothers away last time. What we do know points to only one way to defeat him.”

“I know. I suppose I just… I don’t want Noé to be by himself.”

“He has a good personality. He’ll find people to surround himself with.”

“Wasn’t that where you were supposed to promise me you’d look after him?” Vanitas said with annoyance in every syllable.

“I only make promises I think I can keep.”

“Ugh, I can’t tell which is worse, Noé’s confounded optimism or your depressingly noble statements.”

“I’m always happy to be the thorn in your side, Vanitas.” It was, possibly, the first time Jeanne had joked with him. Noé smiled softly to himself at Vanitas’s exclamation of outrage.

He turned his attention back to the book. He wasn’t sure what to make of the rest of their conversation. He likely shouldn’t have been eavesdropping in the first place but he had a dark inkling as to what they were referring. Whatever Jeanne was going to do to stop Diablo was dangerous.

It wasn’t surprising and Noé stamped out the little voice that insisted there was something there he needed to know. Surely they were only referencing the battle itself and Vanitas was correct: their odds weren’t good. That’s all they’d meant.

Regardless, this book had some interesting details about possession and exorcism. Privately, he wondered if his teacher had a copy of the same material; it seemed like something that might interest him.

_In order for a demon to possess a mortal host there often needs to be a tear within their spiritual energy._ Noé frowned at the vague phrasing. A tear? Did that mean the demon Vanitas had warped Vanitas’s soul at some point? Or had Vanitas done that himself when he bound them together?

The book continued to point out that exorcism in this case needed to be very carefully done as it could further damage the soul in question.

Noé had already known that. He skimmed a bit further until he reached a section entitled “When an Item Is Possessed.”

That was a little closer to what they were dealing with, Noé supposed.

_Should an item become possessed, or should a mortal become tied to an item, a regular exorcism will typically do the trick. The problem is that the entity will look for something to possess as soon as it is free of the item, most likely heading directly for the person performing the exorcism._

_There have been some cases where an exorcism results in a reverse possession. That is, the demon is exorcised from the item, possesses the human, and, with nowhere for their own soul to go, the human essentially possesses the item instead. This can be a torment for the human who will still experience some lingering attachment to their body. Reversing this is nearly impossible._

He considered that. Certainly they were dealing with an item but it was an item _designed_ to store souls unlike most other inanimate objects. It was a bit like—

A bit like a soulstone.

Noé’s eyes widened at that. All the Prime Evils had been sealed away in soulstones by the Horadrim; they were some of the most powerful tools known to man and incredibly rare as they were pieces of the Worldstone itself, the substance that had created Sanctuary so long ago. Why hadn’t it occurred to him before? Even Diablo himself was sealed away in a soulstone though his essence was beginning to seep free from it as evidenced by the cathedral.

If the book was like a soulstone then it had to be attuned to whatever soul was bound to it. That made sense then; it could contain the demon Vanitas’s essence because it had originally been her book if what Vanitas said was true.

But with the spell Vanitas had performed… Wouldn’t it also be attuned to him as well? That certainly explained why the demon Vanitas was seeping through directly into him but it did nothing to indicate how to fix it.

Noé kept reading but there was nothing further on how to separate linked souls. Frustrated, he put the book back, skimmed the rest of the remaining titles, and was forced to admit there probably wasn’t anything related to their specific situation. His shoulders drooped. He’d been so sure they would finally find something.

“No point in setting up camp, I take it?” Vanitas called.

“No, none.”

“Let us return through the portal. We have only Diablo left to face,” Jeanne sighed. “We’ll return carefully all the same. Lazarus may have set up traps.”

It was a chilling statement. They had slaughtered far too many demons if only Diablo remained.

As they continued onward he continued to mull over what little information he had been able to glean. Reverse possession…

His eyes strayed over to Vanitas who was almost blindingly bright now. Noé took his hand in his own firmly. Vanitas gave him a strained smile, more a grimace than anything else, and he gave him a gentle squeeze in return.

 “I … don’t know what came over me,” Vanitas said quietly. He didn’t need to specify what he referred to. It didn’t matter; Noé already knew he referred to the incident after the succubus.

“You were upset for a reason, Vanitas. It didn’t come from nowhere.”

Vanitas looked away, visibly collecting himself. “I was kept captive by a succubus. I know the exact kinds of tricks they use to lull you into a false sense of security. For me, it was often that I was free or … other things. The thought of them using my image to do such things to you is…”

Noé gripped his hand tighter and took a moment to absorb what Vanitas had told him. It made perfect sense, of course it did, but Noé didn’t know what to say to make it better. Some hurts couldn’t be fixed.

When he looked back at Vanitas he saw understanding in his eyes and knew he felt the same.

“I know it’s you,” Noé said quietly. “I’ll always know.”

Vanitas nodded sharply and looked away but not before Noé caught the shine of his eyes. Vanitas was more affected by the incident than he wanted to let Noé know.

Judging by the stiff way Jeanne was carrying herself she had overheard some of their conversation. He wondered what she thought of it all and whether she wanted Vanitas returned to Tristram or locked away somewhere in Hell. He wondered what she thought they should do because he honestly didn’t know anymore. Having someone manipulate his mind in such a way had him doubting a great many things. That demon had taken something special and twisted it.

He breathed in deeply. He couldn’t allow this to affect him anymore than it had; they were too close to their goal for him to be losing himself to doubt now.

Carefully, Noé drew Vanitas in for a quick but meaningful kiss. He couldn’t fix the damage that succubus had done nor could he take the time to fully apologize for his harsh words earlier still but he couldn’t let Vanitas continue without something to show he was sincere. Vanitas let out a soft gasp but quickly wrapped his arms around him tightly.

When Noé drew back he brushed Vanitas’s bangs out of his eyes and gave him a smile.

“I mean it. I will always know it’s you.”

Vanitas nodded dumbly, his face flushed pink, but he didn’t look so tense now and Noé hoped it had helped even if it did nothing to dim the mark of possession.

“Are you two done?” Jeanne said without turning around.

“Yes,” Noé said simply. Vanitas was still staring at him with something akin to awe.

“Good because we’re back at the portal. Let’s go through.”

Vanitas breathed deeply and squared his shoulders before he stepped forward, taking Noé with him.

When they returned the portal promptly closed behind them. Noé let out a sigh of relief. He’d despised everything about it. He looked to his side to see how Vanitas was faring. Noé felt his blood run cold. Vanitas’s eyes were utterly blank.

Jeanne’s hand was on her sword as she gazed all too knowingly at Vanitas.

“Jeanne—” Noé began to protest but before he could say anything at all the inverted pentagram on the floor lit up with an unholy light. Jeanne took a step back in shock and Vanitas collapsed with a shrill cry before going suddenly silent, his mark glowing so brightly he was wreathed in blue light.

Noé could feel the sheer might of the magic radiating off of that pentagram and he knew it had triggered Vanitas’s transformation, fueled it with unholy speed and strength.

 Vanitas rocked silently from where he was crouched but no sound escaped him. He looked more like a wraith wandering the halls of its ancestors than a man.

_No, please no…_

“Vanitas?” he whispered, hating how fragile his voice sounded.

“You need to—” Vanitas bit out.

“I can’t,” Noé cried despairingly. “Don’t ask that of me!”

“She is here. Noé, you need to _hurry.”_

He let out another cry, this time collapsing entirely. Noé glanced down at the book at Vanitas’s side, despising his own helplessness. It was glowing as brightly as Vanitas was. What could he do? He refused to kill him but he didn’t know how to free him.

“I will take care of this,” Jeanne said firmly but with sorrow echoing in every word. She had recovered from her surprise at the pentacle and was swiftly approaching them, her features set with firm determination, unyielding in what had to be done. “I’m sorry, Noé.”

He could feel his skin rise with gooseflesh and there was a tingling at the base of his skull. Hell’s moans of torment rang clearly and he knew this could not come to pass.

As she neared Vanitas something in Noé snapped with a finality that would have alarmed him if he’d had any capacity for reason left.

 “No!” Noé cried and he scrunched his eyes closed and flung Stone Curse at her without a moment’s hesitation. He shielded his view of her for a moment with his raised arms, breathing deeply. What had he just done? He’d attacked _Jeanne_ , one of the few people he considered a treasured friend and he didn’t have a solution, he didn’t know what to do--

He looked up hesitantly. Her sword was frozen in an arc aimed directly at Vanitas. The only thought that brought him any solace was that the curse wasn’t permanent. She would recover.

He had to figure something out before that happened.

“What are you doing?” Vanitas cried from where he was shuddering on the floor in agony. “You cannot save me! Let Jeanne get this over with!”

Noé’s mind was racing. What could he do?

_Just take a sip of this each day. Just a sip! And you may soon find the answer you seek._

The elixir Adria had given him. He hastily pulled it from where he kept it at his belt and gazed down at its silvery depths. It was almost completely full; he hadn’t been sleeping much and he’d only taken a sip like Adria had said. He didn’t know what would happen if he took more.

He had to try.

Without taking another moment to consider the ramifications of what he was doing he downed the entire bottle. Immediately, he felt woozy, nausea worked its way through him. He wondered desperately if he had made a terrible mistake but then images flashed before his eyes. He let out a cry; it was too much. He didn’t know what to do with this—

_The book, Noé. You have to use the book!_

_It might not save_ this _world but it will save_ a _world, so to speak. I suspect it will be one you will grow to care about a great deal._

_That is, the demon is exorcised from the item, possesses the human, and, with nowhere for their own soul to go, the human essentially possesses the item instead._

Noé flung himself forward onto his hands and knees before Vanitas, heedless of how painful it was to move now, and tore the book from Vanitas’s side.

“W-what are you—”

Quickly, moving with fervor he didn’t know he possessed, he drew Vanitas’s dagger, drew a thin line across his hand, and pressed a few drops of his blood upon the cover of the book. Then he proceeded to focus his own spiritual energies into it. It really did react a bit like a staff just as Vanitas had said it would.

The book fell open, activating for the first time Noé had ever seen, and he focused on picking out Vanitas’s unique essence from the demon Vanitas’s. Slowly, Vanitas’s essence began to be drawn into the book.

“Noé, stop!” Vanitas cried. “What are you doing?”

“This will save you; I know it will,” Noé forced out, barely managing not to spill the contents of his stomach at the amount of mana the spell was requiring of him. A reverse possession. Surely he would be damned for doing such a thing but if he could put Vanitas’s soul back in his body later it would be fine.

It would all be fine.

Vanitas didn’t say anything more. Noé thought he might have heard a sob but he couldn’t be certain. He couldn’t afford to lose his focus now.

At long last the spell was complete and the mark of possession finally dimmed. Noé collapsed with a shout of pain. Every fiber of his being was on fire and the book felt like ice. It closed itself with a snap. Distantly Noé thought that was strange but the roar of Hell was overwhelming and everything _hurt._ It was as if he were being stabbed by a million razor-thin knives over and over.

He let out a hacking cough and was unsurprised to see blood.

“What did you do?”

It was Jeanne. He forced himself to meet her horrified gaze. He felt some relief that the spell hadn’t harmed her at least.

A high-pitched cackle filled the air.

Noé’s relief was dashed as quickly as it had come and he let out a moan of despair.

Vanitas.

He hadn’t considered that if he took out Vanitas’s soul all that would be left—

“My, but you are a strange vampire,” she hissed. “But I suppose having this body to myself will work well enough. Hand over the book.”

Noé laughed, hysteria finally bubbling to the surface, and immediately he began hacking up more blood. Of course she wanted the book and Noé couldn’t do a thing to stop her. He was out of mana. He couldn’t lift a finger to drink a mana potion much less summon any kind of spell.

“You will not have this book,” Jeanne declared. “Stay back. This is your only warning.”

“I care little for mortal warnings.” Vanitas flicked a finger and Jeanne went flying in the opposite direction, colliding with a solid _smack_ as she hit the far wall.

_No, no…_

“After everything I did for him,” she murmured, “and this is the thanks I get?” She crouched beside Noé and he was met with familiar features with a wholly foreign presence behind them. Noé lifted a feeble hand in a vain attempt to stop her but she swatted it away and tenderly picked up _The Book of Vanitas._

“Oh, you poor thing… We’ll have to find some way of restoring you. We’ll do that after we find my original body. Where did you hide it away, I wonder….” Her attention returned to Noé momentarily.

“Whatever did you think you would accomplish with this, I wonder? Were you thinking at all? We’re lucky you didn’t tear his soul apart in this mad scheme of yours. But I suppose I should thank you,” she said slowly, consideringly. “I can finally keep him safe once more. He’s always getting himself into trouble.”

“Please,” Noé rasped. “Don’t take him away…”

“He’s not yours,” she snapped. “Don’t think for a second he is.”

_“Please.”_

A loud roar filled the air from behind him. Vanitas looked up in surprise just before a sword plunged directly into her right eye driving its way through her head. She let out a howl of pain as the force of the impact forced her to the ground. Her body spasmed erratically yet it was clear she still wasn’t dead.

Jeanne had flung her sword from across the room with incredible accuracy and she was now running over with all the fury of hell in her eyes, her armor clanking ominously with every step.

Vanitas was trying to grasp at the sword to no avail. Noé knew that casting any kind of spell with such an impairment was all but impossible but she was a strong demon. She might be able to if she got over her surprise.

Noé closed his eyes. She was lying directly in front of him and even if he knew the body was no longer _his_ Vanitas’s it hurt to see it maimed in such a fashion. He let out a sob; he could hear Jeanne’s footsteps rapidly approaching.

_Please let this be over soon._

Jeanne seemed determined to grant him this one wish. As soon as she got to Vanitas she ripped the sword out of her head and slammed it directly through her heart.

“Begone demon!” she cried. “Your kind will not take Sanctuary!”

At last, Vanitas stilled. Jeanne breathed heavily above her before she crouched beside Noé and turned him onto his back.

“What do you need?” she demanded.

“Mana potion,” Noé managed. “Healing potion wouldn’t hurt either.” But he could tell it was a spiritual wound that afflicted him. He’d spent an enormous amount of mana in sealing Vanitas’s soul into the book, far more than was wise.

“The book…”

“Drink this first,” she said grimly, propping him up against her. She tilted the potion back for him so he could drink it more easily.

She did that with seven more potions before he began to feel somewhat like himself again. She followed it up with three healing potions and Noé finally risked sitting up. When he didn’t immediately throw up he figured it was safe to move around once more. He let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re feeling better then?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” And she promptly punched him in the face. Noé let out a cry of shock as he collapsed to the floor.

“What the hell was that?” she cried angrily. “You turned me into _stone?_ And what did you do to Vanitas? Do you have any idea how dangerous all of that was? Do you have any idea how close we came to losing this battle entirely simply because you couldn’t be bothered to think clearly?!” She tugged him back up and shook him hard before finally letting him go.

She paced up and down the corridor, the pulsing glow of the inverted pentagram bringing her in and out of focus.

Shame filled him. He had done something terrible to Jeanne. He hesitantly picked up the book. He could sense Vanitas’s presence locked away inside it but he couldn’t make much else out.

Had he harmed him as well?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He meant it for them both.

Jeanne took a deep, ragged breath. Her shoulders were shaking and Noé felt even worse.

“We can’t afford this,” Jeanne said quietly. “We need to save Prince Luca. I miss Vanitas, too, but he knew what was happening and you, you just…”

To his horror he realized Jeanne was crying. Carefully, he held the book to his chest and rose to meet her. Hesitantly, he wrapped an arm about her and drew her close.

“I’m so sorry, Jeanne…” Truly, he hadn’t thought of her pain at all. In that moment, all he’d been thinking was how difficult life would be if Vanitas wasn’t in it, that Jeanne was going to take him away from him. He hadn’t spared a thought toward anyone but himself in his desperation.

Would Vanitas hate him after this? Would they even be able to _talk_ to one another?

She wrapped both arms around him tightly.

“We can do this, can’t we?” Noé whispered against her. “We’re almost there. There’s just one battle left.”

She nodded vigorously into his shoulder and they both pretended not to notice the wetness on her cheeks when she drew back.

“Just one more battle,” she said wearily, “and I think I know how we’re going to get there.”

They both turned to face the pulsating pentagram. Yes, there was only one thing left to do and that was descending into the deepest bowel of Hell.

Wearily, Noé rested his head against the coolness of her armor. The scent of blood behind the walls was overwhelming but it no longer bothered him all that much. It was becoming as familiar as the rest of their environment: predictable as a cool breeze at night. He carefully avoided looking at Vanitas’s body.

“What did you do to him?” she said softly.

It was a fair question but Noé found himself reluctant to answer it. It revealed his own selfishness far too thoroughly but he owed this to her after the betrayal he’d just demonstrated.

“I sealed his soul to the book,” Noé said reluctantly. “He’s still dead. I mean, his body is. But he’s still here, so he’s not really dead. I’m sure there’s some way of sorting it out. I’ll just have to speak to my teacher…”

“You speak of terribly dark magic,” she said as she drew back slightly to get a better look at him.

“You think what I did was wrong,” Noé stated.

Jeanne shrugged but she seemed sad. Somehow that was much worse.

“I can’t say Noé. But what will you do if there isn’t a way to fix it? Will you send his soul on to be free?”

He shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t ready to think about that.

“But I suppose it doesn’t matter at the moment,” Jeanne murmured.

“How are we going to stop Diablo, exactly?” Noé said, desperately wanting to change the subject. He stared into the pentagram pensively. “I never really thought about it but I overheard you and Vanitas talk about it. I figured we’d go in and shoot him down but that’s not how this works is it? He’s a prime evil, an essence of the world; surely there’s more to it than that.”

“Noé…”

“Please, Jeanne,” Noé whispered, closing his eyes wearily. “If it’s something you can tell me, please do.”

“I’m not sure yet,” she finally said. “I don’t think I’ll really know until I see him for myself. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, of course. I… What shall we do?”

“We’re going through that portal,” Jeanne said grimly. “Do you have everything you need?”

Noé nodded reluctantly and finally let her out of his embrace entirely. He carefully attached the book to his belt. It was now his most treasured possession. He would have to find some way of restoring Vanitas.

He steadfastly ignored how vague of a plan that was and how likely it was he would die long before that. He could very well have sealed Vanitas away for all eternity, one of the cruelest fates he could have bestowed upon him.

As they passed Vanitas’s fallen body Noé hesitated.

“You can take a moment if you need it,” Jeanne offered. Noé nodded hesitantly and crouched beside him. He knew, logically, Vanitas’s essence was no longer in this form and that he was really right at Noé’s side even now.

It did nothing to ease the pain of loss however. He hated how Vanitas’s body looked like this; he deserved so much more than _this._ He was struck by a thought: didn’t the book say a soul would still be attached to its body in this situation?

Horrified, he wondered if Vanitas was in pain. He prayed that wasn’t so.

Hesitantly, he reached out to rest a hand upon his chest and extended healing energy into the corpse. It didn’t restore his eye but everything else looked the same as before.

What was he supposed to do with the body?

“Noé…”

“Yes, right…” Carefully he removed Vanitas’s daggers and offered them to Jeanne. At her puzzled look he simply shrugged, incapable of explaining why he was doing this. He supposed he wanted Jeanne to have something to remember him by as well.

For now, there was nothing more to be done one way or another. Together they walked into the center of the pentagram. A sudden _whoosh_ ing sound filled the air and Noé felt them falling further and further into the darkness. Cries of pain and suffering surrounded them but Noé wasn’t frightened anymore. He’d long grown used to the horrific sounds of Hell and he had nothing left to lose.

When they emerged it was to a large chamber, far larger than anything they’d been in before.

Unsurprisingly, the room was filled with demons. Their eyes glinted with malice and they had a horrible, knowing look.

It was time finish what they’d started.

Noé didn’t hold himself back at all. He summoned Mana Shield for both him and Jeanne, summoned several Guardians, and unleashed Elemental into as many demons as he could.

The result was that the room was filled with a firestorm of chaos. Ethereal figures shrouded in flame burst from his staff, three-headed dragons slithered from the floor to do his bidding, and the demons _burned._

Jeanne’s own tactics were no less potent. She adeptly avoided all of Noé’s spells and clashed with the nearest demons, the sound of clanging metal filled the air as she swung left and right.

Quite a bit of dodging was required of them both as demons of all varieties hurled bolts of lightning, fire, and ice at them. Several of the dog-like demons from earlier on burst into the fray, their gnashing teeth aimed directly at Noé’s neck.

He took a hasty step back and whirled his staff in a large sweep before unleashing consecutive fireballs at them. Their bodies burst with acid, forcing him to retreat to another section of the room, hurling fire as he went.

The battle continued on much like this with Jeanne yelling out directions here and there until silence finally descended.

A rush of wind whirled about them, embers floating with it from some unknown force, and the walls grew darker. A heavy miasma of horror settled on Noé. Jeanne stood beside him and he could see the way she gripped her sword tightly. At his questioning look she gave a curt nod.

Diablo was forming.

The embers suddenly sparked brighter and a rumble filled the room. The shadows extended forth and slowly formed into a figure of immense stature. Noé looked up and terror rose in him.

The shadows finally settled and Diablo’s visage was clear for all to see. His features were horrific; they were mangled and distorted. His mouth was a gaping maw of sharp teeth and his leathery skin was covered in protruding horns.

He let out a low laugh when he saw them, his height extended nearly to the ceiling, and immediately Noé felt the temperature shift. Confused, he realized it emanated from underneath him just before a surge of fire shot from the ground flinging him and Jeanne across the room.

Noé landed with a hard thud and was given only a split second’s notice before he realized the floor was heating up again.

“Run!” he cried at Jeanne.

Without a moment’s hesitation she did so and, as if reading each other’s minds, they split up, dashing frantically to opposite ends of the room. It seemed to make little difference; Diablo loomed over them and there was no place to hide.

But perhaps they could divide his attention enough to get close.

_Why fight against the inevitable?_

Noé shuddered as he flung Elemental across the room. It dashed directly into Diablo to no avail. With a sinking feeling it occurred to Noé that Diablo’s main element _was_ fire. He was fighting against him with the element he was most immune to. Diablo seemed to realize the same thing Noé had and he released another chuckle before waiving a hand. Immediately, part of the wall dislodged and came at him with furious speed.

He barely managed to dodge in time and it still rammed directly into his shoulder. He let out a choked grunt of pain as he forced himself back up. It was almost certainly dislodged. He hastily cast a healing spell undoing the majority of the damage.

_You’re one of my own, child. Join us._

“Be quiet!”

Diablo wasn’t even speaking exactly. It was as if all the sounds Noé had been hearing in Hell were all replaced with Diablo’s own voice with disturbing clarity. But he would not give in. He did not serve Hell no matter what his ancestry was.

_Stop being distracted by the demon and use ice, you fool._

Noé blinked in consternation. That hadn’t sounded like Diablo at all. In fact, with its dry tone and sarcastic lilt it sounded suspiciously like—

He glanced down at the book at his hip. It was glowing slightly and when Noé hesitantly reached his spiritual energy out to get an idea of what was going on he could feel Vanitas’s presence. Noé let out a huff of relief; so he wasn’t gone forever.

He wasn’t granted time to contemplate it for long, however. Diablo’s presence would not be denied. Noé had practiced under his teacher for years. He wasn’t reduced to mere fire spells even if it was what he excelled at. He grimaced as he dodged another chunk of the wall. His ice spells were pretty poor, though but Vanitas had once said the book could amplify abilities…

He strapped his staff to his back and hastily unhooked the book and aimed it at Diablo. Immediately he could feel his own power rushing through the book resulting in a cone of snow shooting out. This time Diablo let out an irritated growl before smashing the ground with a fist. The reverberations knocked Noé over but he felt momentary triumph. The damage he’d done had surely been meager but it was enough to distract the Lord of Darkness for now. It would be enough to give Jeanne a chance.

Jeanne had taken to dashing about the perimeter, hurling fire with her enchanted sword. She must have swiftly realized the same thing Noé had; fire was all but useless against this enemy. He could see even from here as he was casting cones of snow the way she grit her teeth in frustration.

Then, to Noé’s intense surprise, she sheathed her sword and drew Vanitas’s twin daggers and maneuvered herself so she was directly behind Diablo. Noé continued to draw Diablo’s attention. He let out a roar of anger before summoning what could only be described as an earthquake. The entire floor was heating up now and Noé, in his panic, froze his section to prevent the worst of the blast.

“Jeanne!”

She let out a howl of desperation and flung herself at Diablo, plunging Vanitas’s daggers directly into his calf, clinging to him desperately, just as the floor exploded in a sea of lava.

Noé was sent flying; he flipped midair and immediately cast the most powerful ice spell he could. Due to the book’s amplification it ended up being far more powerful than he’d anticipated and a wide section of the lava cooled.

It did nothing to ease the force of his collapse, however, and he felt his shoulder crack. He screamed in pain, clutching at his shoulder. Through the blinding pain he knew he had to heal it right away; he’d only frozen a small section of the floor. The lava would surely overcome him swiftly if he wasn’t quick.

As he set out to healing it he saw Diablo spin about in fury. Jeanne was plunging the daggers into him, using it as a leverage to climb up onto his back. When she reached one of the larger horns sticking out of his spine she used it to pull herself up and drew her sword once more.

He roared and Noé saw exactly as he was about to plunge himself into the lava to remove Jeanne permanently. Noé’s breathing stilled in horror. He had to do something _now._

With more alacrity than he knew he possessed Noé flung ice across the sea of lava, paving the way for him to skate over to where Diablo was in the center of the mess. As he did so he summoned the largest chunk of ice he could and flung it directly into his stomach.

All in all, it didn’t have as much of an impact as he would have liked but it definitely distracted him. His attention was on Noé now which was … bad, actually.

Noé flung himself to the side as Diablo rammed a fist into his bridge of ice. Jeanne was barely holding on with all the movement but she finally managed to leap onto his shoulder.

“Aim for his hands!” she screamed as he lifted them with the obvious intent of yanking her away from him.

Noé obliged as best he could. He didn’t quite freeze them but he did knock them away from her in the nick of time. Taking the opportunity before her she rammed her sword directly into his eye and unleashed the fiery enchantment the sword held.

Apparently, Diablo wasn’t _entirely_ immune to fire for he let out a pained shriek. The sea of lava was letting out alarming bursts and Noé knew they wouldn’t last much longer.

Jeanne removed the sword and promptly stabbed him in the other eye. Diablo finally managed to grab her and slammed her into the ground. Thankfully she collided with the ice bridge as opposed to the lava itself.

She let out a choking sound but Diablo didn’t let her go. As he was about to slam her into the ground once more Noé hurled another chunk of ice at him followed by another and another.

He was finally forced to let go of Jeanne who promptly picked herself back up.

_She’s no longer human,_ Noé realized suddenly. It would have been impossible for a human to survive that kind of damage.

Jeanne seemed to realize that herself for when Diablo went to swipe at her--seeming to know exactly where she was regardless of his lack of vision--she leapt away with inhuman speed and strength. She landed on the wall and used it to jump directly back at Diablo, sword in hand. Noé gaped after her in astonishment.

This time the sword didn’t merely glow with a fire enchantment. This time it burned like a comet and Jeanne smashed it directly into Diablo’s forehead.

Diablo let out a final roar. The ceiling shook and the lava slowly cooled much to Noé’s relief. Jeanne leapt away from him as he fell, returning to Noé’s side. She was breathing heavily and shaking uncontrollably.

Neither of them said a word as the light of the lava dimmed entirely, plunging them back into darkness. The book’s glow faded away. Noé clutched it to his chest gratefully. He couldn’t hear Vanitas anymore but he was _there._ They had won.

He took a moment to let that sink in.

 “We did it,” Noé breathed. “Jeanne! We did it!”

But she didn’t say anything. Instead she walked slowly to the corpse and crouched beside his head. Confused, Noé followed close behind her.

When he took in Diablo’s features it became apparent what was bothering Jeanne: the soulstone.

It protruded from his forehead in a ghastly fashion. So this was what contained Diablo’s essence. Noé frowned in consternation. Diablo hadn’t truly escaped then but in order for there to be a body he would have had to have possessed someone.

Noé felt uneasy as Jeanne reached for the soulstone, slowly cutting it out of his forehead. As she did so his body slowly faded into dust only to be replaced by a young boy. Noé closed his eyes in sorrow.

Jeanne let out a low whine of anguish.

It was Prince Luca.

“Jeanne…”

She clutched the soulstone tightly. It shone red in the dim lighting of the chamber.

“I failed him completely,” she said, staring at the stone emptily.

“You saved Sanctuary,” Noé said softly. “You’ve done more than anyone else could have.”

“No,” she whispered, “Diablo’s essence isn’t nearly contained enough. There is still more to be done.”

Noé shifted uncomfortably. Something about the tone of her voice was setting him on edge. What more was there to be done? They’d defeated him as completely as was possible.

“I can’t let him roam free again,” she continued, oblivious to Noé’s growing concern. “I have to contain him…”

“Jeanne, what are you—”

His eyes widened as she gripped the soulstone tightly, tilted it just so, and plunged it into her forehead. She let out a resounding scream and the room filled so suddenly with dark magic that Noé was knocked clear across the room. His head slammed into the wall and all he knew then was darkness.

* * *

 

_Noé…_

_Noé!_

“Noé, wake up!”

He let out a low groan and feebly managed to open his eyes. Above him was Jeanne, a worried look on her face. He gasped and clutched at her, drawing her close.

But there was nothing there. No soulstone protruded from her head, no mania filled her eyes. There was just concern and some confusion.

“W-what happened?” Noé forced out as Jeanne helped him sit up.

“When I touched the soulstone you started acting strangely. You collapsed,” she murmured. “Are you all right?”

Was that what had happened? His memories of it were a haze but surely Jeanne wouldn’t have done something so … erratic.

“I see,” he said slowly. “Then, Diablo is defeated?”

“Yes,” she smiled softly. “Let’s get back to Tristram and inform them of what has come to pass.”

She seemed exactly like the Jeanne he’d always known. He must have hallucinated whatever he thought had happened with the soulstone. Guiltily, he was forced to admit he had fallen for false images before with the succubus. No, his own memories were unreliable right now. He’d be able to think straight once they were out of this infernal place.

“Yes, let’s do that. I’ve missed being home.”

* * *

 

The next week was a strange one for Noé. Tristram celebrated for days on end with feasts and music and dance. It should have been wonderful and for the first day it was: he and Jeanne danced together, twirling left and right. She was radiant in a light pink dress and seemed so much more carefree than she’d ever been. They laughed at Ogden’s jokes together and dined on delicious food, but soon after he found himself excusing himself from the festivities in favor of spending time at home. All of that had been several days ago and the town was _still_ celebrating. Noé supposed it was with good reason; they’d only narrowly avoided being plunged into chaos.

He let out a heavy sigh as he sunk into the bench before the hearth. Murr immediately hissed and wandered away from him. Murr had always been cranky but ever since he’d returned from the labyrinth he’d been ten times worse. Noé wondered what it would take to win his cat over.

He cradled the book in his hands gloomily. He hadn’t heard a word from Vanitas since that day. What did he think of their current state of affairs?

Noé hated to admit it but he may have been wrong to save Vanitas in this way. It was far from true freedom, the one thing he’d always proclaimed he wanted more than anything else.

He rested a hand on the cover tenderly. “I’ll fix this. I’m sure Teacher will have some advice.”

He’d already finished packing for the journey to Lut Gholein. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to return to Tristram this time if ever. Rescuing Vanitas from Noé’s own foolishness could take years and he was prepared to dedicate as many as necessary in restoring him.

He let out a heavy sigh and looked around his home one last time. It was so dull. His teacher had been right: he should have taken the time to decorate instead of allowing it to resemble little more than a lived in tomb.

“Come on, Murr. Let’s bid farewell to Ogden and Jeanne and be on our way.”

He carefully loaded his meager belongings onto Melon who looked all too ready to leave. He wondered what it was about Tristram that made people want to leave with all due haste.

_Probably all the portals leading straight into Hell,_ Noé mused darkly.

When he reached Ogden’s tavern it was packed with people for once. Noé smiled at the sight. He hoped his friend’s business would pick up at long last. He could see Farnham and Gillian the barmaid chatting in the corner and even Pepin was relaxing by the fireside.

When Ogden saw him he waived him over excitedly.

“There you are! We’ve seen so little of you Master Noé. Won’t you stay a while?”

“I wish I could,” Noé admitted. “But I came to say goodbye for now. I need to discuss some matters with my teacher.”

“That teacher of yours needs to live closer,” Ogden sighed. “I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised. Jeanne left as well.”

“What?” Noé hadn’t expected that at all.

“She left several days ago,” a voice said from behind him. Noé turned to see Cain the Elder. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“As am I,” Noé said quietly. They had been through quite an ordeal; perhaps she needed time to make sense of it. Even so, his heart hurt knowing he hadn’t been able to spend more time with her. “Where did she go?”

“East,” Cain said grimly. “I would like to speak with you a moment before you leave.”

“Of course,” Noé said in surprise. He glanced at Ogden apologetically who simply shrugged and Noé followed Cain to a table set far back in the inn for those seeking privacy.

“There are some things I need to tell you and a few things I hope you can tell me. You know me as Cain the Elder but I am more accurately known as Deckard Cain, the last of the Horadrim.”

Noé gaped at him. Cain was one of the Horadrim? That was the group that had sealed away the Prime Evils all those years ago in the first place.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Noé stuttered. “I had no idea!”

“Because I hoped it wouldn’t matter. But your friend has fallen into a dark mood and I fear the worst.”

“She defeated Diablo,” Noé said defensively. “We saw many evil things in the labyrinth. I do not blame her for being shaken.”

“I understand,” Cain said sympathetically. “But she kept waking in the dead of night, screaming about the east. I have no doubt that is where she has gone.”

“Why should that matter?” Noé said tiredly.

“Perhaps it means nothing,” Cain admitted easily enough. “I simply wanted to let you know. Tell me, how did the two of you defeat Diablo?”

Noé gave him a brief summary with some reluctance. It wasn’t something he wanted to remember and the more he spoke of it the more agitated Murr became until he leapt away from him entirely. Noé let him go; he’d find him before he left regardless.

“Nothing sounds amiss,” Cain said but he sounded uncertain, as if he didn’t fully believe Noé’s recounting. Guiltily, Noé had to admit he’d left out certain details. He hadn’t told him what had really become of Vanitas for one and he hadn’t told him about the strange illusion he’d seen with Jeanne and the soulstone.

“We won,” Noé said simply and prayed he was correct.

“Well, since you’re also headed east, should you find her, do make sure she’s all right.”

“Of course I will,” Noé said irritably. Realizing he’d all but snapped at someone of great import he offered a hasty apology. What was wrong with him lately?

Cain let out a quiet chuckle and brushed it off.

“You’ve been through a great ordeal. Think nothing of it. I hope your travels are peaceful.”

“Thank you, Master Cain.”

Noé finished his tea, said his final farewells, picked Murr up, and headed out to Melon. It was time to begin the journey east.

He touched the book at his hip, felt Vanitas’s lingering essence clinging to it, and made him a silent promise. He thought of Jeanne and her strength and determination. He would need to find his own now. Both of his friends felt terribly far away. He wouldn’t be able to rely on them to make things right as he’d done on so many occasions in the labyrinth. It was his turn to help them.

He mounted Melon, held Murr close, and began on the long road to Lut Gholein. The moon loomed high overhead and the air was brisk. The world was a changed place; it was time to see it for himself once more.

* * *

 

Jeanne braced herself against the heavy winds pounding against her. She could feel Diablo’s essence all around her, demanding she give in and free him once and for all.

She would do no such thing but perhaps by heading east she could find a cure for this madness, a way of locking Diablo away once and for all. Until then she would not rest; she owed Prince Luca that much. She would make things right.

_I’m sorry, Noé…_

When Diablo was truly vanquished he would understand.

_East. You must … go … east…._

She would see peace restored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who read through all of this a very big thank you! I hope you enjoyed the story; let me know your thoughts. ^^
> 
> And now for some news: you've probably noticed this is part of a series, so there will be a sequel! Noé's adventures in Sanctuary aren't over just yet.
> 
> **Edit:** Art now exists for this story! Check out Bagel-san's piece [here.](https://bagel-san.tumblr.com/post/183242208625/so-i-drew-some-fanart-for-bemused-writer-s) Thank you!


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